


Mannequin

by silver_ring5



Category: Arashi (Band), Kanjani8 (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sakumoto - Freeform, Yasuba, tegomass - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3243128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_ring5/pseuds/silver_ring5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sakurai's father sends him to manage a small costume shop, he doesn't understand why he's being punished. He doesn't belong there-- he belongs in the heart of the city, leading his department and working his way towards being company president. But somehow he finds the queer little shop more intriguing than he anticipated, and he's especially drawn to one of the shop's mannequins. Which is pathetic, he knows, because the thing is an inanimate object...</p><p>Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Painted Faces

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to reupload this fic. If you've read it before, I'm adding the final chapters, so there's something for you to look forward to. If you haven't, please enjoy! As always, I'm sure I could use some corrective criticism, so please, don't hesitate.

If you want to take over the business, you have to have experience-- and you  have to start small. That’s what Sho’s father had told him. If his eldest  son, who had slaved away at university and then progressed quite well in very few years with the overhaul of the economic department of the corporation (which is a direct reflection of why he’d chosen to major in economy, minor in business management), wanted to have any chance at succeeding his father as president, he would have to have experience in running a business.

 

And Sakurai Sho, of the prominent Sakurai family known throughout three continents, had no such experience.

 

Apparently, overseeing an entire department wasn’t good enough. According to his father, Sho hadn’t actually integrated himself. He hadn’t become a truly assimilated member of the economic department, but was rather a distant figurehead, untouchable upon his ivory tower.

 

Or maybe it was a white horse. Sho didn’t remember his father’s exact wording, and the man could get a little wordy at times, in Sho’s opinion. Everyone else seemed to love the old man’s poetic little tidbits. They offered valuable advice, or so  his mother told him  every time she’d caught him grumbling as a teen.

 

Sho didn’t see the need to become “truly assimilated.” He worked hard, taking weeks to develop the best plan possible for the revision of the department, and then spent the past few years implementing it. Yes, he will admit that the majority of the people in the department were only recognizable to him as names on a page. Their faces all ran together as they worked in identical cubicles; bodies around the conference table... but so what? The corporation’s economy was thriving. His plan was wildly successful. It was better than anyone had anticipated. So why was he being punished?

 

That’s all Sho kept asking himself as he drove out towards the strip of shops  renting from his father where he’d be taking over a management position of one of them. It wasn’t in the most lucrative of neighborhoods, mostly just  families and businessmen taking the train to work. Stray stones and gravel crunched under his tires as he pulled into a parking space, and he noticed that the lines were faded and starting to blend into the cement. That was going to have to be rectified.

 

Stepping out of his car, he also couldn’t help but notice how out of place his BMW looked and decided it might be better to drive the Mitsubishi from there on out. Plucking Louis Vuitton sunglasses from his face to get  a better look at the store front, it would have been obvious to anyone that he was a man used to luxury. His clothes were what he considered  “business casual,” but even those cost more than what most of the men in the neighborhood paid for their  best suits. His wristwatch probably cost the same as some of their cars.

 

Sakurai felt out of place, basically,  and he felt even more out of place when he entered the shop he was going to be managing. Color saturated garments hung in heavy racks on both sides of him, with even more elaborate and vibrant colored clothing hanging on the walls, all the way up to the ceiling. His attention was immediately drawn to an intricate and fiercely scarlet dragon costume, with glittering gold embroidery and inlay winking back at him; flickering menacingly in the slightly-too-dim light in the store. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Sakurai made a note to figure out what was wrong with the lighting.

 

The second thing he noticed was the smell, and really, that hit him just as he saw the dragon costume. It was  heady, somewhat musky,  and woodsy. The scent wasn’t overbearing, but it was definitely there, wafting forward from the back of the shop. And Sakurai had to admit, for a costume shop, the ambience was well suited... if they were in the movies.

 

But they weren’t, and it wasn’t appropriate  for a store in the real world that had any expectation of turning a worthwhile profit.

 

He’d have to talk to the owner about that.

 

The third thing he saw made him do a  double-take, because he thought at first that he’d run into a person... But people don’t dress in violet velvet suits with long black opera capes. It was a mannequin, and yet, Sho still found himself staring. He wasn’t even looking at the costume. He was staring at the mannequin’s face.

 

It was beautiful. Arched brows over deep brown eyes framed by a thick fringe of delicate lashes, the rosy mouth a stark difference to the pale skin tone. The artistry even went so far as to include a smattering of moles, each placed perfectly. Especially the one below the lips, which Sho imagined would feel lush against his own... if they were real and not carved.

 

Sho blushed and ripped his focus away from the wooden form, embarrassed with himself for getting caught up in an inanimate object. Of course the man wasn’t real. Real men were never so beautiful.

 

“Can I help you?” a voice from off to his left made him jump, and he turned to see who had spoken.

 

The voice belonged to a man who was arguably handsome enough to have his likeness painted on a mannequin. His body was long and lean, good mannequin material  as well, and Sakurai did his best to shake the thought out of his head.

 

“Ah, you noticed one of the mannequins,” the  store clerk said cheerfully as he approached, “Gorgeous isn’t he? The owner painted that face on him. I think he might have carved him too... See how narrow his waist is? You don’t see many male mannequins like him in department stores.”

 

“Erm, no, you don’t,” Sho agreed, then cleared his throat, “Sakurai Sho. I’m going to be the new manager here, at least for the time being.”

 

He extended his hand, and the other man’s eyes lit up. “Ah! So you’re Sakurai. I should have guessed when I saw your car pull in. I’m Aiba Masaki. I only work here part-time, so this is great. The owner needs help here.”

 

“He does?”

 

“Absolutely. He wastes so much of his time selling things when he should be creating!” Aiba answered emphatically.

 

Sho cocked an eyebrow. He was pretty sure he preferred the act of selling to creating, especially when there appeared to be a surplus of costumes all around him.

 

“Does he sell a lot of costumes, then?” Sho decided to ask, instead of voicing his opinion.

 

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say ‘a lot’,” Aiba shrugged, “but what I meant was, he spends too much time managing the shop and trying to sell things when he should be making more awesome costumes. It’s something of an artform, the way he designs costumes.”

 

“Right,” Sakurai said, noting Aiba’s flair for the dramatic that seemed oddly genuine, “Well I’ll do what I can to handle sales so he can focus more on his art... Where is the owner anyway?”

 

“Ah, he’s probably in the backroom. It’s his workshop away from home.”

 

“Away from home? He doesn’t live above the shop?” Sakurai asked, because his father’s architects had designed these units with apartments above each store, “Does he rent it out?”

 

“Nope. It was used mostly for storage before Sakurai, er, your father called,” Aiba replied, starting to walk to the back of the store and gesturing for Sho to follow.

 

Sho’s eyebrow immediately shot up in suspicion, but he held his tongue while Aiba poked around stacked boxes, bolts of fabric, and other odds and ends before he found what he was looking for, “Ah, there you are!” Aiba exclaimed and a man in a stylish fedora looked up from where he was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor.

 

Sho realized that this must be the owner, and watched as the man set aside the cloth he was embroidering. Introductions were made, and Sho tried to discern just how old the man was, but found it difficult with the shadow cast by the hat.

 

They moved to the front of the store, where the owner and Aiba both showed Sakurai the different merchandise categories (monsters, period, film reproductions, romantic frillery, animals) and how they were broken down (full outfit, outerwear, underwear-- Sakurai blushed-- hats and headdresses, gloves, masks, shoes, scarves, jewelry, and so forth). Then the owner briefed him on store policies (polite to customers, enthusiasm is encouraged, handle the costumes carefully), and all the while Sho kept finding his attention drifting back to the beautiful, caped mannequin.

 

Sho didn’t mean to keep looking at it, but even from behind, the mannequin was beautiful. Aiba caught his line of vision and turned to the owner, “Sakurai’s already seen the dark-haired mannequin, where’s the other one?”

 

“There’s another?” Sakurai mumbled, intrigued and simultaneously embarrassed that Aiba had caught him eyeing up the mannequin-- again.

 

“Yeah,” Aiba nodded, “There are two that are so detailed. Both are dudes, though.”

 

The owner didn’t expand on why he made two male mannequins even though it seemed to Sho that customers would probably respond better to handmade lady mannequins,  and pointed  to a rack of  ghostly Victorian costumes, “He’s back there. I dressed him as an admiral apparition.”

 

Sho didn’t want to seem too eager to see it, and hummed what he hoped was nonchalant that

he’d look for it later... but his interest was piqued. He couldn’t help but wonder if this other mannequin was as beautiful as the first.

 

So he waited. Eventually the owner seemed satisfied that he’d shared enough of his costume shop wisdom and bid Aiba to show Sho how to use the cash register. And while Sho took notes and listened, he must have appeared distracted because Aiba was suddenly saying, “We’ll go look at him together. I haven’t seen him yet today anyway, and a ghost admiral sounds pretty cool.”

 

Sho’s expectations were both exceeded and slightly defeated when he saw the other mannequin. The mannequin was exquisitely made, and his charming face couldn’t be described as anything but beautiful. The craftsmanship was incredible here, too. The painted eyes looked soft and warm, if not less expressive than the dark eyes of the fair-skinned mannequin... Which brings up the point that this mannequin appeared to have a tan. His skin tone was a creamy bronze, as if he’d spent countless lazy summer hours outdoors. The lips weren’t as full as the other mannequin’s either, but that was partially due to the mouth being smaller in general.  Or maybe Sho just wasn’t as tempted to kiss them, thus making them seem less full in his mind. He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t about to think about it any longer. What he chose to think about instead was how the mannequin’s face seemed less expressive, while simultaneously easy going-- which made the mannequin a rather lax admiral. Even with the wool jacket, fancy pins, shiny boots, and impressive hat; Sakurai just couldn’t find the mannequin intimidating.

 

“He doesn’t look much like a leader,” Sho muttered.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Of a ship,” Sho clarified, “He doesn’t look like the leader of a ship. He’d be too lenient with the crew.”

 

“Oh,” Aiba said, understanding, “Or maybe he’s a different sort of leader. Maybe he leads from behind.”

 

“If you say so,” Sho smiled, then changed the subject, “So what did my father say he wanted the apartment above the store for?”

 

“I didn’t speak with him, but he said he wanted it cleared out so furniture could be brought in.”

 

“Furniture?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Aiba sounded surprised that Sho was surprised, “It came yesterday. From what I’ve been told, you’re going to be staying above the shop while you’re here.”

 

“I’m what?”

 

Aiba was about to repeat himself when they both jumped. Something had crashed to the ground, and upon closer inspection, they found it was the taller mannequin in the opera cape. Somehow, he was face down on the floor. Sakurai reached down to grip the mannequin's shoulders and pick him up when the owner appeared out of nowhere and blocked him. Instead, the old man pulled the mannequin upright and started to brush him off.

"Don't be so dramatic," he admonished the dress-form, smiling. Beside him, Sho's fingers itched. He'd wanted to touch the mannequin...

So he did. Unable to stop himself, Sho reached around the owner to lightly brush his fingers through the mannequin's dark hair. He was just fixing it, he told himself... but his hand lingered, and the hair felt so oddly soft. He only pulled back when he caught the shop owner smirking out of the corner of his eye.

Something about the way the owner smiled didn't sit well with Sho. It was like he knew something Sho didn't... such as why he found this mannequin so incredibly irresistible.


	2. Voices

Sakurai fell asleep that night feeling an awfully lot like he did when he was a boy and about to be sent off to summer camp. As if this was the last night in his warm, safe, comfortable bed before he was shipped off to hell-- or in his childhood’s case, camp.

It wasn’t even that he hated most of the camp. Most of the camp was fine. But there were these select few activities that ruined the whole experience for him. Such as the tree bridges, the observation tower footrace, and the snakes. Sho’s parents knew he hated heights and most reptiles in general, and they knew that the camp they were sending him to embraced both of them... but they sent him anyway, and Sho learned a valuable lesson.

He learned to suck it up.

Even if he was afraid, he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t give up-- and he’d be caught dead before complaining to his father. Sho had the same mindset for the following morning. He was going to take the bags he’d hastily packed and move into the apartment above the shop without so much as a word to his old man.

But he was going to hate it.

He had earned the posh apartment he lived in now. He’d worked hard not to just coast on his father’s name, and he’d spent a lot of time picking out the furniture and decorating the rooms-- which sure, some people might scoff at and question his masculinity, but this was the first place he could call his own. And that was important to him. It was an important step towards breaking away from his father’s discerning eye and having a haven all of his own.

But now he was going to be stuck in a significantly smaller apartment away from his books, his friends, his things... There was no way a decent-sized bed was going to fit into the tiny bedroom. He was going to have to get re-accustomed to sleeping in a single. And the kitchen was pathetic. Not that he cooked much, or all that well, but still. His father hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to move. That was just so typical of his old man, too. To just make decisions for him...

Aiba had joked (the guy was already joking with him) that he could take the mannequin upstairs with him. Heck, he could take them both up. Which, of course, Sho immediately laughed at. He’d said it would be creepy enough knowing they were only a floor beneath him. He’d said that was plenty close enough. But in all honesty, Sho sort of liked the idea of at least taking Purple Velvet upstairs with him.

“Don’t even think about it,” the owner had grumbled from behind them, “I come in early to change their costumes. I don’t want to have to go looking for them upstairs while you’re sleeping or whatever.”

“You change their costumes every day?” Sakurai asked, curious.

“I try to,” the owner answered, “And I’ll continue to try to until my trip.”

“You’re going on a trip?” Sho sounded surprised because he was surprised, but he couldn’t decide if he was displeased with the news or not.

“Eventually,” the owner replied, and after a minute of waiting, Sho realized he wasn’t going to say any more on the subject. Which was mildly irritating because Sho was obviously curious, but oh well. If the owner wanted to be secretive, so be it. All Sho had to worry about was turning this costume shop into a successful business. Maybe with the owner gone, he’d be able to get the lights fixed (the owner had already told him there was nothing wrong with they way they were and to just leave them be).

So that was how his first day at the costume shop had ended. The second day started with him moving into the apartment upstairs, with Aiba’s help. Sho had originally planned to just drop his bags upstairs and get right to work, but the owner said moving in was part of the job for the day, and that it was important to get him settled and ready to manage the store full-time. So Sho watched as the owner logged into the register and took his place at the counter...

And sat on it while bedazzling a jacket. The owner, who was now wearing a burgundy fedora, just scooted right on the countertop and started adhering glittering rhinestones to a bolero that apparently wasn’t ornate enough already.

By the time Sho and Aiba finished and came back down again, the jacket was very sparkly but lonely as it sat on the counter with no owner in sight. Sho took a mouthful of cool water from his bottle as he scanned the area for the owner so he could tell him that they were done upstairs and ready to get to work selling costumes. Aiba was right there with him until the skinny man’s phone started wailing something upbeat and Aiba mouthed that it was his mother and it would only be a second. Alone, the store was suddenly very quiet. He’d gotten used to the chattering or clattering that seemed to define Aiba, outside of the man’s disarmingly bright smile, and now it was almost too quiet.

But as he drifted between costume racks looking for the owner, he thought he caught the briefest wisp of a conversation, as if a whisper had just slipped past his ears. Assuming the owner was close and speaking intimately with a customer, Sho held his tongue and tried to walk toward where he’d thought he’d heard the voices.

And suddenly, he heard the voice again, somewhat clearer, but this time it felt almost like a memory. As if he was just remembering someone whisper something. But why would he be thinking of someone saying, “He doesn’t like me. He called me creepy.” ?

But then he heard the owner’s voice, behind him, and it was so much louder despite being soft-spoken. With a chuckle, the owner murmured, “He lied. He’s fascinated by your beauty... I’m not going to be responsible for what happens to you if he takes you upstairs.”

“Yes you are!” hissed the voice, from what sounded like inside his head again.

“I don’t want to go upstairs with him,” mumbled another voice that Sho also couldn’t be sure he was hearing outloud. It was starting to upset him, the odd sensation of thinking he might be hearing voices in his head, and Sho was relieved when he caught sight of the owner’s shoe poking out from behind a rack of Amazonian costumes.

But the owner was alone. Or he was alone with the two mannequins... which still meant he was alone.

“Hello,” Sho said, and his own voice sounded rough and far too loud, “Are you by yourself over here? I thought I heard voices.”

“Voices?” the owner straightened his posture slightly, “You heard voices in your head?”

Sho started to deny it when the owner added, “I knew you were special.”

And Sakurai wanted to smack himself for saying anything. Special. Jeez. But the owner just smiled, fingertips running over the rim of his hat, as he added, “It’s just me and the mannequins.”

“I’m not... I don’t hear voices,” Sho responded quickly, “I’m just tired... Aiba will be here in a minute.”

“Alright then,” the owner was smirking again. Even though his face was mostly shadowed by the hat, Sho could catch the small smile and a glint of an eye fixed on him, “So tell me, what do you think of his costume today? Did I make the right decision?”

“Oh, um...” Sakurai looked at the pale form in front of him styled as a motorcycle gangster. His dark hair was slicked back, and he wore a leather jacket over a white tee. Sho’s eyes traveled down, and he swallowed. Those jeans were really, very tight.

“He looks good,” Sho commented, then cleared his throat, “You even rolled the cuffs of his pants... That’s nice. He looks really good.”

And then there was the sensation again, except it wasn’t as much a voice he heard in his head as it was the sound of a sharp intake of breath. Sho’s eyes widened, and he touched his temple. Maybe he shouldn’t have carried that chair upstairs himself. Maybe he really did break a vein or something like Aiba warned he would.

The owner chuckled. “Sho, I’m glad you like him-- I mean, the costume, but I was asking you about the one I’m working on now... The one I gestured to.”

Oh. Sho felt his cheeks heat up, but he looked at the mannequin the owner was standing with and tried his best to give his honest opinion. “He’s a space traveller, right? Like a futuristic astronaut.”

The owner nodded, “Something like that. I was going for Retro Space Captain, but yeah. What do you think of it?”

“The details are pretty cool,” Sho answered after he thought about it for a moment, and actually paid the costume some attention, “I like the glitter in the plastic bits. And that color is nice on him.”

“The blue? Yeah I like it too. It’s his favorite.”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, it’s my favorite,” the owner corrected, “Or really, it’s my favorite color on him. My favorite color is red.”

“He’d look really good in that dark red matador costume,” Sho said, pointing to a costume on the wall. Red was his favorite color too, “Are you sure you like him better in blue?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the owner replied, “But you know... If you think he’d look really good in it, I’ll put him in it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, he’d look good. We’d probably sell it and maybe even the matching flamenco dress, if we get a couple,” Sho answered, looking thoughtfully at the dress.

“Paso Doble,” the owner corrected, then added, “So you think he’d look really good in that?”

Sho nodded. Again, he liked red.

“Better than him?” the owner jerked his head toward the motorcycle gangster.

Immediately thinking it was a trick question, Sho got quiet. Was the owner making fun of him? Sho waited a few more seconds, pretending to ponder the actual question instead of why it was being asked, and the air around him started to feel a little electric with anticipation... But anticipation for what? Who was nervously anticipating his answer? Sho didn’t know, and he didn’t think it was the owner.

But what if it was? Sho decided to answer truthfully, “No. He wouldn’t look better than him.”

“You like this mannequin better, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Aiba wandered back saying he could stay until the end of his shift, which was in an hour, but then he’d have to head back to the restaurant for lunch and to prep for the evening rush.

“Restaurant?” Sho had asked.

“Yep. My parents own the Chinese food place across the way. I work there. I guess I’ll own it too someday.”

“You kind of own it now,” the owner commented, “You know your parents list you on the deed. They have for years now.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Aiba commented, smiling and running a hand through his hair. Sho thought he looked a little iffy about it.

“And he’s not a bad chef,” the owner continued, obviously just a bit proud, “He does a lot of the cooking...Great, I’m hungry now.”

“So why do you work here?” Sho asked, a little unsure himself about the revelation that this goofy guy made food, and apparently good food at that.

“Oh well, you know,” Aiba smiled and shrugged, “Just for something different-- and to get away from my parents for a while.”

“I get that,” Sho said immediately, understanding the sentiment perfectly, “I work under my father too. My mother, she doesn’t work. Well she did, she taught, but she doesn’t anymore.”

“What am I? A refuge for inheritance-babies?” the owner muttered, teasing.

“Ha, as if,” Sakurai snorted, and Aiba laughed. Then the door jingled and a woman with her daughter came in. They were looking for a costume for the haunted house the girl’s class was having for their festival. Aiba suggested a little ghost, while the owner thought perhaps a vampire, but it was Sho’s suggestion that she go as a mummy that was the winner.

And Sakurai felt oddly satisfied as the little girl walked out of the shop with Egyptian jewelry and a two piece costume of winding, distressed muslin that was, he had to admit, rather frightening to behold when on. It might not have been as lucrative a sale as the ornate vampire princess costume that the owner had shown her, but it was still a sale... and the little girl had loved it.

That night, after they’d closed the shop and gotten dinner from Aiba’s family’s restaurant (which was delicious, the owner and the reviews were credible), Sho felt a little strange locking the door behind the owner as he exited.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” the owner had muttered, “I expect I’ll find everything as I left it.”

“So I can’t try to fix the lighting?”

“No. You can’t. I told you, there’s nothing wrong with the way the store’s lit,” and then right as the door was closing, Sho could hear him add, “You’ll just end up electrocuting yourself, and then what will I tell your father? He’d definitely jack up my rent if you died.”

So Sho went up the stairs, shutting off the not-broken-lights and telling himself he wouldn’t be back down until the next morning. He couldn’t stifle the sigh that rose in his chest when he looked around his temporary apartment. The walls were bare, the furniture unfamiliar and definitely more of his father’s taste, the air conditioner was loud, and he had no idea if the wifi was any good.

Oh and nothing was set up right-- he’d noticed earlier but had forgotten up until that moment. He no longer could control the television, music, and computers from his phone. That was going to take a little while to get used to.

Freshly unhappy, he checked his phone for messages but decided to ignore the ones he’d received. He didn’t feel like talking to those people anyway. Or really, he didn’t feel like explaining. After checking some stuff on his laptop and wishing he was more tech-savvy so he could get better connectivity, he flipped through channels on the television before relenting and deciding to make an early night of it.

But once he’d turned off the tv and the only sound left in the space was the air conditioner, Sho was startled when he’d walked by the door leading to the stairwell and thought he’d picked up pieces of a conversation... in his head. He pressed his mouth into a tight line. Not again.

Sleep. His brain needed sleep. Sho crawled into the bed, squeezed his eyes closed, and told himself to fall asleep. Immediately. Before he heard anything else.

And it worked... sort of. Because just as Sho felt his consciousness slipping away, he’d heard a voice saying, “Listen, his breathing is more even. He’s asleep.”

And then Sho’s mind had that horrible, cling-to-wakefulness moment where the mind tries desperately to claw at staying conscious, because he could swear he heard something thump right outside his apartment door... As if someone had been listening on the other side.

When he awoke the next morning, he was able to rationalize that no one could have possibly been outside the door. He’d thrown the deadbolts himself. It was just his mind playing tricks on him... and the air conditioner kicking back on. That’s all. So he didn’t mention a word of it to either the owner or Aiba that day during work. They just sold costumes, Sho took a look at some statements the owner begrudgingly gave him, Aiba came in around noon and worked till 3, the owner’s fedora was brown suede, and it was pretty normal. Sho didn’t hear any more voices.

Until that night. That night, Sho forgot his tablet charging downstairs. And after waking up around 2:30 in a cold sweat because he’d dreamt about thumps and creaks outside his door and in the room beneath him, he decided he wanted to use it. He wanted to run through stats and jot down which costs needed cut or bolstered until he couldn’t keep his eyes open (until he pushed himself to dreamless exhaustion).

So grabbing his phone to use as a light, Sho quietly crept down the stairs into the backroom. His tablet was charging out by the front counter. All he had to do was find a lightswitch... but when he made his way to the front, he could see that a light was already on.

Which was strange, because Sho was almost positive he’d turned all the lights off. What the heck? Sho stuffed his unnecessary phone into his pajama bottoms’ pocket, and started toward the doorway but stopped short.

He was hearing voices again. Two men. Speaking softly, as if they were far away and yet only in the back of his mind. Picking up his feet carefully, the further he stepped through the doorway, the clearer the voices became.

“...it was too dark....he’s asleep...”

“....likes you.... talk to him...you’re his favorite”

“No....I couldn’t....Sakurai”

“Hello!” Sho practically shouted, eyes wide, because he’d ‘heard’ enough, “Who’s here? Anyone here?”

Sho charged bravely into the room, heart-pumping, as he looked around.... but nothing seemed out of place, and no one seemed to be inside. All the locks were firmly in place.

Oh wait. Oh shit. Sho sucked in a cold breath: the mannequins.

The mannequins were not where he’d left them. The mannequins were closer to the zombie baseball uniforms, near the front counter. And they were together. They hadn’t been left together.

Oh shit.

Sho turned around, purposefully left the lights on-- all of them, fuck the electricity bill-- and walked swiftly back upstairs to his apartment where he turned all the lights on, and slept that way.

By the third night, he was terrified. Sho came this close to booking a hotel room, but no, his father would find out. So he debated asking Aiba to sleep over... but he couldn’t find the right moment. It was awkward, because sure, Aiba seemed to like him, but they barely knew each other. Because he didn’t want Aiba to think he was weird or desperate for a friend, he ended up not asking him at all.

So, that night, after closing up shop, he’d sat upstairs at his laptop, trying to distract himself from what he was sure was an irrational fear. Mannequins can’t move on their own. That’s ridiculous. But he’d seen it. Or he’d seen them not be in the same place that the owner had left them.

Wait.

That the owner had left them.

Sho facepalmed. Of course that was it. Either the owner or Aiba had come in that night and moved the mannequins. He’d thought he heard two people whispering, though. So it might have been both them together. Ha, it was probably because they knew Sho favored the prettier one (the owner took offense to that statement when Sho had described his favorite that way the second day, claiming both of his mannequins were very pretty) and wanted to fool around with him.

Sakurai tapped his tablet to check the schedule for the next morning. Aiba and the owner were going to be opening with him. Awesome. Sho couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. It was the kind of smile he hadn’t given since he’d messed around in high school (he hadn’t had the time or anonymity to screw around in college).

But if Aiba or the owner, or both, thought they could pull a fast one on Sho, they had another thing coming. He, too, could play this game.

Sho opened all the locks on the apartment door, turned the deadbolt, and walked downstairs practically laughing at himself for being so stupid as to actually believe the mannequins had moved on their own.

Ha.

Stupid.

Sho reached his mannequin first. The beautiful dress-form was wearing a taboo, dark-wizard costume and while Sho had avoided the mannequin the entire day, now that he was looking at him properly, Sho couldn’t wait to get his hands on those leather leggings the mannequin was wearing beneath the ominous cloak. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked...

His eyes sparked, and without hesitating another second, Sho grabbed the mannequin around the waist and picked him up. The air around him was buzzing again: confusion, anxiety...and something else. Something exciting. This time, Sho thought it was his own energy, because he was certainly worked up. Even if it was stupid, and the thing was just a mannequin-- just an inanimate object-- Sho was getting a little heated. The mannequin was so compelling to him, but it also wasn’t alive... So Sho could do whatever he wanted to it, right?

He carried the mannequin upstairs, hands gripping the narrow hips. He was being careful, Sho didn’t want to break the thing, but he wasn’t necessarily gentle either. And he dropped it rather unceremoniously on his loveseat (the apartment wasn’t large enough for a proper couch). The mannequin’s joints creaked slightly, and Sho almost thought he heard a gasp. But no, it was probably just the AC again.

Sho swallowed as he looked down at the mannequin laying on its back on his couch, legs hanging off the edge. The cloak was hiked up, and Sakurai had a better view of those leather-clad legs. Breath hitching, he ran a single finger from the seam at the ankle up the calf to just above the mannequin’s knee.

And he was getting way too hot from touching a mannequin. Sho laughed, hair falling forward as he leaned over the mannequin and shook his head. The thing’s face was frozen in the same beautiful calm as always, but Sho felt apprehension radiating from the mannequin. He could almost swear the thing was trembling, even though it wasn’t moving at all.

It’s. Not. Alive. Sakurai.

He repeated the words in his head, and refused to think anything else. He was just going to strip the damn thing and leave it in his bed for the owner and Aiba to find tomorrow. Maybe give it a cigarette to pinch between it’s molded fingers. He’d muss the hair a bit too... It would be hilarious, and harmless.

And it served the owner or Aiba right for messing with him.

Sho looked at the skintight leggings again, but decided to first unclasp the cloak and push it from the mannequin’s shoulders. Beneath it, the form was wearing a silky black shirt with the neck open and plunging down its chest. The skin tone of the carved chest was just as deliciously, milky pale as the face and neck and... Sho was quickly undoing the remaining buttons. He wanted to see just how detailed this mannequin was.

Flicking the last button open, he peeled back the shiny material to reveal a chest that did not disappoint... well sculpted muscles, rose-tinted nipples dotted by more delicate moles. Sho thought, again, what a shame it was that such beauty did not exist in the natural world.

“Ah, if only real men could be as beautiful as you,” Sho whispered to the still form beneath him-- And there was that weird feeling again! Like the memory of a soft moan. Like the memory of foreplay he’d never had. Like a memory he wished he had, as if the man beneath him was breathing shallowly and whining ever so slightly.

Sho put both hands on the mannequin’s knees, feeling the joints beneath them as he squeezed. Leaning as he went, Sho ran his hands up the legs slowly. He took his time, all the while feeling lust starting to pool beneath his stomach. His hands climbed closer to the top of the mannequin’s thighs, and Sho moved his hands to cup the mannequin’s inner thighs before they reached the juncture...So close--

“Stop! St-Stop! Please! Stop!”

Sho scrambled backwards, nearly falling over a side table. The mannequin’s lips hadn’t moved, its expression hadn’t change-- but there was not a single doubt in his mind that the mannequin had shouted at him in his mind.

“Oh my God,” Sho muttered, eyes staring wide at the mannequin. Nothing happened for a second; he didn’t hear anything, but then, slowly, the mannequin started to move.

Sho squeaked.

The mannequin sat up, creaking as his waist and legs bent, and looked quietly at Sakurai. Sho, frozen in place, didn’t move. Wanted to move. Wanted to leave. Kind of wanted to cry. But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” the voice was in his head again, sounding breathless and a little afraid, and Sho’s eyes got impossibly wider, “I just, I couldn’t let you... When you didn’t know what I was. I wanted you to know.”

“Know what?” Sho whispered.

“That I’m...well, I’m not exactly a normal mannequin.”

“Oh,” Sho nodded, “I see that.”


	3. New Acquaintances

“Look. _Look._  Just.... Just stay over there. Okay? I’m just going to …. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m  _not_  going to do that. I just. I need a second. What the fuck is going on?”

“Sho”

“No. Just. Shut up.” Sho was panicking, and if he didn’t calm down, he was going to hyperventilate.

They were quiet for a moment, with just the sound of Sho’s not-quite-hysterical breathing. The mannequin’s blank stare was freaking him out now too, because Sho knew it must be looking at him, but he couldn’t prove it.

“Why can I hear you in my head? How are you doing that?” Sho blurted.

“Telepathy,” the mannequin’s voice responded softly. Sho felt a little comforted because while it wasn’t something  he’d ever believed in, it was at least a term he was familiar with. It wasn’t out of left field like the walking, talking mannequin... And Sho also had to acknowledge that the voice still sounded shaken. A  little afraid... Well good.  It should be afraid of him. Because Sho’s strong and fast and if it makes one move towards him, he’s going to beat the living shit out of it with... with what? With WHAT?! Sho’s eyes darted around the room before honing in on a candlestick he’d brought from home. If that... _mannequin_  tried to get him, he’d take off its fucking head in one blow.

A thought struck him, and Sho  narrowed his eyes at the mannequin ,  “Are you reading my thoughts? Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“No...it doesn’t work that way,” the mannequin’s voice had an added tremor to it when he added, “But it’s obvious  you’re afraid of me. I knew you would be. The owner was  wrong... you’re horrified by what I am. I don’t blame you. I’m a freak. I’d be horrified too.”

The voice sounded so depressed, and Sho felt his cheek twinge at the unexpected emotion he felt in response. The mannequin, while creepy-as-fuck, was still beautiful, and its voice was oddly appealing.  Sho’s breathing slowed a little.

“If I’d wanted to hurt you, if I even  _could_  hurt you, I wouldn’t have let you haul me upstairs like that, let alone...” the mannequin left the sentence unfinished.

Oh...well Sho had to admit that made sense. The mannequin could have turned on him before. He hadn’t exactly been gentle, and the mannequin had put up with... a lot. As guilt was seeping into his own fear, Sho had the strangest need to excuse his earlier behavior.

“I didn’t... I didn’t think living mannequins existed. I thought you were just an object. I didn’t mean... I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” Sho said, his words a little jumbled with his thoughts as his heart was still beating pretty rapidly. This was definitely the most surreal conversation he’d ever held in his life.

“It’s okay,” the mannequin replied.

Sho stood up and awkwardly made his way to the chair he’d carried up earlier in the week. “Good. So you’re not going to go all ‘Child’s Play’ on me, right?,” Sho made an attempt at humor, laughing weakly. His fear was still apparent.

“No,” the voice replied seriously, if not terse “I won't.”

“That’s good,” Sho said, forcing a small smile.

Sounding painfully self-conscious, the voice in Sho’s head started to ramble,  “Telepaths are actually very rare, you know. I mean, I’m a special case, but to be born with it is so rare. You’re the first person in years to hear us talking. You might not know this, but telepathy lets us share images too...memories of sights we’ve seen and places we’ve been.”

“Oh,” Sho muttered blandly.

“I could show you--”

“What’s your name?” Sho cut the mannequin off. Barely able to handle hearing someone else’s voice in his head, he didn’t think he could handle seeing someone else’s memories.

“Matsumoto Jun”

“Matsumoto...” Sho tested the name on his tongue, and felt the mannequin react: a small sigh, a shudder.

"It's been a long time since I've heard my name from someone new," Jun told him, and Sho nodded and tried to look sympathetic-- as if he could understand what it was like to not hear his name. Which he couldn’t. He heard his name muttered by strangers every day at the company. There’d always been underlings that knew him when he never even tried to know them.

He ended up telling Jun that, and the mannequin asked why he didn’t know the people he worked with. Sho explained how large his department was, let alone the company, but Matsumoto said he knew the corporation was vast. He’d heard the conversations carried on by Aiba and the owner, and the owner didn’t exactly leave him in the dark. He was still surprised how few people Sho knew. Had he been too busy, or did he just  not care? Was he shy? Jun admitted he’d always been shy, “...even before...”

“Before what?” Sho asked.

But all Jun did was gesture to himself, his arm creaking as it moved. And Sho let it go, but he didn’t understand.  Everything was so strange. It was strange that Sho had just spoken so easily to the mannequin when he still wasn’t sure he trusted him not to come after him during the night. It was strange how readily Jun had a response. With these thoughts weighing on his mind, awkwardness was setting in again, and Sho seriously had no idea what to say or do next. He couldn’t exactly just ask Matsumoto to leave.  He should make some sort of conversation. Sho was good at talking to people. He always had been. Maybe that talent extended to living mannequins.

He meant to just discuss random topics, but before Sho realized it, he was telling Jun more about his role at the corporation-- how he’d gone to university with a specific position waiting for him, and how he’d let it control every collegiate decision he made. He’d sacrificed every other dream he might have entertained so that he could excel where the corporation most needed him.

And he had. He brought renewal to a failing department-- he’d saved it from being absorbed by other factions. And he not only saved it, but made if invaluable to the success of the corporation. The economic structure of such a large business group was intricate and far-reaching, and required careful monitoring. It required more than that, it required set plans and schemes with fail-safes and the ability to evolve. Sho had worked his ass off to ensure the economy of the corporation would flourish.

And where did that get him? Managing a costume shop and sitting next to a walking, talking, half-naked mannequin-man.

Ah, as soon as Sho let the words, “half-naked” slip past his lips, he regretted saying them. After all, it was his fault Jun was almost naked. Sho had  _stripped_  him.

Avoiding meeting the blank stare of  Jun’s painted eyes, Sho  looked at the pieces of costume he’d stripped from the mannequin on the floor and blushed. “Are you cold?” he muttered, picking up the black silk shirt.

“No,” Jun’s voice rang softly in his head again, “I’m fine. It’s fine. I don’t feel temperature or...anything, really, like you do.”

“Ah,” Sho murmured..., “You can’t feel? You didn’t feel earlier when I--”

“I felt it,” the voice in his head was immediate, and Sho felt his face burn, and it kept on burning as Jun continued to say, “just not as...intensely as I would if I were a normal man.”

“Mannequin?” Sho mumbled, reddening.

“ _Man._  It’s like I’m normal but beneath a shell, and I have to feel everything through it,” Jun tried to explain, but Sho wasn’t sure he was following. He nodded like he was, but he wasn’t really. A shell?

“I’ll see if I can explain it better tomorrow,” Jun’s soft voice disrupted Sho’s thought, as if he could read it. Which he repeated he couldn’t unless Sho invited him into his thoughts-- and even then, Sho would still be in control of what Jun saw, as long as he was awake. Which was a relief to Sho, because he really didn’t think the mannequin needed to know all that he’d been thinking him the last couple of days.

“Why tomorrow?” Sho asked next.

“It’s just getting late and Captain is probably wondering about us.”

“Captain?”

“Er, the other mannequin,” Jun responded, “he’s my friend.”

“So he’s like you? He’s the other voice I heard?” Sho realized he wasn’t as surprised, but it was still strange, “Are there any more of you?”

“Yes, he’s like me. He’s newer, though,” Jun answered, joints creaking again as he tried to stand up, “And no... there’s no more of us. Not that I know of, anyway.”

Jun managed to stand and turned his head towards his discarded cloak on the floor, and then at the black shirt. Sho felt the sensation of Jun sighing before he heard the voice say, “I know I said it was fine, but do you think you could maybe help me with the shirt?”

“Oh yeah, sure. No problem,” Sho answered.

It was much more awkward, he discovered, putting the shirt back on the mannequin than it was taking it off. Taking it off... Taking it off had been nice. Just approaching the smooth, pale chest this time around had his skin covered in gooseflesh. Sho swallowed before asking if Jun could lift his arm so he could slip a sleeve on. The he moved to Jun’s other side, holding the opposite sleeve, and accidentally grazed the side of Jun’s chest where the rib cage would be. The intake of breath that whispered, albeit briefly, in his mind tightened in Sho’s traitorous groin and he did his best not to blush.

The buttons were probably the worst of it, because Sho’s fingers were still a little shaky from the night’s excitement, and he had a hard time convincing them to fasten what they’d so nimbly undone earlier. By the time he was done, both Sho and Jun were a little embarrassed.

Not that Sho  _wanted_  the mannequin or anything. When he’d thought it was just an inanimate object, it would have been fun to play with, maybe... But even though it was now “alive”, it wasn’t flesh and blood and it would be completely weird if Sho was attracted to it.

Super weird. He’d be a freak.

So, Sho wasn’t attracted to it. As he followed quietly behind Jun as the mannequin moved towards the door, he repeated the phrase in his head twice for good measure:  _I am  not remotely attracted to Jun._

He was about to repeat it for a third time, eyes not focused on the backside of those leather leggings in motion, when Jun stopped in front of the door. Raising his gaze to the back of Jun’s head, Sho told him, “It’s not locked.”

“I know... My fingers don’t bend.”

“Oh! Well here, I’ll get the knob, just let me step in beside you...” Sho squeezed in beside Jun to open the door, and the proximity allowed him to feel embarrassment radiating from the mannequin.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sho murmured as he pushed the door open wider, “Do you need help going down?”

“No,” Jun’s voice replied quickly in Sho’s head, “I can do it.”

The joints in Jun’s legs, starting with his ankles, allowed him to walk down the stairs-- but it was a slow process. Still, Sho was patient and followed behind him, ready to grab Jun if he teetered at all. During the slow descent, Sho couldn’t help but think again how surreal and insane this was. Ever since he’d entered the costume shop, it was like he’d travelled into the spirit realm. Now he was just wondering what other Tsukumogami would pop up next.

“Sho,” Jun whispered in his head as they reached the first floor, “Captain is probably over at the register computer. We can’t do much with these hands, but we can manage to use the internet to an extent... Anyway, try not to get upset or anything around him.”

“Okay,” Sho nodded, then nervously asked, “Why? What will happen?”

“Nothing will happen, but Captain doesn’t need that. He’s resigned to what he is, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He...Well, nevermind. Just be nice to him,” Jun told him, then they both pushed open the door to the shop.

Jun was right. Captain was on the internet, looking at some fishing equipment, from what Sho could tell.

“So did you two have fun up there?” Sho bristled a little at the new voice in his head, and he could so clearly tell the difference between this one and Jun’s. This one was casual; reserved but friendly. Sho began to answer affirmatively-- but then remembered the way he’d torn out of the shop earlier, hauling Jun upstairs, and thought it would be better to let Jun answer.

Captain had seen him at his worst already, thought Sho. Did it really matter how he behaved now? He almost groaned when Jun’s voice assured Captain that he and Sho didn’t do anything, and that they’d just been talking for a while.

“Talking. Okay,” Captain’s voice was slightly teasing, and Sho could just imagine the little pout on the mannequin’s lips curving into a small smile.

Sho went over and properly introduced himself to the mannequin, and they talked for a little. Captain said he’d also liked the matador costume, but his favorite color really was blue, and he’d really liked that space costume.

“Although,” the Captain allotted, “Jun-kun did look pretty amazing in that biker getup. I think tomorrow he should go for that strappy,  patent-leather Vampire costume. Don’t you?”

Sho’s eyes followed where Captain was pointing until he saw it, and swallowed. The costume was a combination of Edward Scissorhands and Anne Rice’s Lestat. The full body suit was wrapped in strips of leather, almost resembling....

“--bondage,” Captain finished a sentence Sho hadn’t been listening to until that moment and he snapped his head back to look at him. Again, he had the distinct feeling the smaller mannequin was smiling, even though the carved mouth was barely curved.

 

The next day started with the owner coming in the morning and pounding on Sakurai’s door. The cloak was missing. Jun wouldn’t tell him what happened. Captain kept laughing. Sho had better have some explanations.

Sho, face beet-red, mumbled that they must have just forgotten it. He told the owner that he and Jun had  _talked_  for a while upstairs, and then they’d gone back down and talked for a bit with Captain before going to bed.

“So you’re all friends now?” the owner asked, and under his heather-grey fedora, Sho would swear the owner was straight-up grinning.

“Oh,” Sho thought about it for a second, “I guess we are.”

“You will be,” the owner assured, “I knew you were special.”

The owner fell into Sho’s chair with a sigh, “Finally... things are starting to fall into place.”

“What?” Sho asked him, and when the owner just shrugged, he muttered angrily, “I never get a full answer on anything around here.”

He was about to walk downstairs to open the shop when the owner stopped him.

“Hey,” the owner said, placing a hand on Sho’s sleeve, “Don’t mention this to Aiba. He doesn’t know. He can’t hear them... And really, don’t mention it to anyone. It’s safer that way.”

“But don’t you trust Aiba?” Sho asked. He’d already assumed that Aiba knew about them.

“I do, but this magic doesn’t involve him,” the owner replied, “Or it doesn’t yet, anyway. When the time is right, I’ll make sure he knows.”

 

It was a week into Sho’s tenure at the costume store when a slight man with mischievous eyes entered the shop. Sho had greeted him with a nod and hello while Aiba immediately stopped sorting rings and brooches.

“Thank you for visiting our store, I’m Aiba. Are you looking for a costume?” Aiba asked, brightly, “You’d make an excellent devil.”

“No, I’m actually looking for Saku-- What do you mean I’d make a good devil? No I wouldn’t! Who even says that? Are you saying I look devilish?” the man sounded insulted, but his eyes were amused.

“Ah, that’s not what I meant at all,” Aiba laughed, “Well, maybe a little.”

“Devilishly handsome, you mean,” the man retorted, and Aiba shrugged, laughing again. He flirted with everyone, a fact Sho noticed nearly a week ago.

“Did you say you were looking for me?” Sho approached and caught the man’s attention.

“Ah, Sakurai-san,” the guy smiled politely, but in a way that still felt cheeky, “How are you? The department misses you. I’m here to see how you’ve been doing.”

“I’m doing fine, aren’t I Aiba?” Sho answered quickly, “He’ll vouch for me, but I can also give you a sales report as well as a report detailing changes I intend to implement to increase sales while I’m here.”

Aiba nodded the entire time, as if he couldn’t vouch for Sho more, and Sho saw it and smiled a little bit. It was kinda nice to have someone to back him up. He was used to standing on his own at work, but to have someone to band up with, who was more than just a colleague and something like a friend, was different.

Something like one, but not exactly a friend, Sho corrected in his mind, because he still didn’t know very much about Aiba. And he’d never seen the man outside of work, which friends would. Friends hang out. Work associates do not. He didn’t even have Aiba’s cell number.

Oh well. Sho did not feel a single pang in his chest at the realization that he didn’t do things outside of work with people he actually liked (people who didn ’t ignore him once he wasn’t working in an impressive company as a department head)... Unless he counted Jun and Captain. They were now a rather constant part of his work day, forever whispering in his head whenever he was close enough to hear them. Sho had learned that at the opposite end of the store, he couldn’t hear them at all, but the closer he was, the clearer the telepathy was.

“I’m not questioning your work ethic, Sakurai-san,” the thin man said, “You know how familiar I am with it, after nearly three years.”

The color left Sho’s face a little bit, and he smiled before saying, “Ah. Yes... Well, then...”

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” the man said, voice dripping disbelief, “Honestly? Jeez, Hiroki was right.”

“I’m just, I’m just bad with faces,” Sho stuttered.

“Told you this was going to come back to bite you,” Jun’s voice teased in his head. The mannequin was standing nearby in the horror section. Despite Captain hinting that he and Sho would like to see Jun in the vampire costume sooner, the owner had only put him in it that morning.

Sho was just about to telepathically  tell Jun to shut it when the man spoke again, “I’m Ninomiya. Ninomiya Kazunari. My workspace is right outside your office, by the coffeemaker. I’ve seen you use the coffeemaker, so you can’t tell me you don’t know where it is.”

Sho nodded, he did, indeed, use the coffeemaker. And actually... he knew this Ninomiya! He’d seen his name on several data sheets and reports, and if Sho wasn’t mistaken, Ninomiya was rather adept with compound stratagem and figuring numbers.

“Ah, I do know you! Or I recognize your name, anyway,” Sho exclaimed, “You’re cheap! I mean, you’re good at cutting costs...”

Sho almost facepalmed again. He’d meant to appease the man, not insult him. Now what was Ninomiya going to report back to his father?

But Ninomiya just laughed and said, “I’m definitely cheap. You  _do_  know me... but I’m still not forgiving you for forgetting my face. I’m a good looking guy, you know?”

 

“Yes you are, Ninomiya-kun!” Aiba agreed cheerfully.

“Ah, you can call me Nino. Anyway, I’ve spent about all the time I’d like out here in the middle of nowhere, and I have things to do at home, so about those reports...” Nino’s voice trailed off as his eyes came to rest on Jun, “Holy Mother of...What is that?”

“That’s a post-apocalyptic Vampire soldier,” Aiba responded promptly.

“ _That_  is fantastic. I kind of want it,” Nino murmured, stepping closer to the mannequin. Sho only prickled a little when the small man ran an appreciative finger over a strap clasped tightly around Jun’s stomach.

“You want the costume?,” Aiba asked, oblivious.

“I want the vampire,” Nino smirked, and they both chuckled.

In his mind, Sho grumbled to Jun about people touching costumes they didn’t intend to buy, but Jun was quiet.

“Hey,” Sho said to distract Nino, “We have another mannequin, if you want to see that one too.”

“Another one like him?”

“No. Well, yes. I mean, he’s detailed like this one is, but he’s different. I’ll take you to him,” Sho told him, pleased to see Nino step away from Jun.

“Alright,” Nino said slowly, wondering about Sho’s heightened tension, “Lead the way.”

Nino fell in behind Sho as the taller man walked to the opposite side of the store where the period costumes were kept. Captain had been dressed as a mercenary shinobi, and he was posed simply, but Sho couldn’t help but think Captain looked like a silent threat.

“Here he is,” Sho motioned to the mannequin, and waited a second for Nino to come up past him, but Nino didn’t come.

Nino was standing there, mouth open, staring at the mannequin.

“You okay?” Sho asked, thinking the thin man was looking a little green, and even more pale than when he’d walked in.

“No...” Ninomiya whispered, then cleared his throat, “The bathroom. Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

“Sure,” Aiba replied, looking concerned, “It’s by the dressing rooms. Here, I’ll take you.”

 

Nino closed the door to the washroom behind him, and pressed his fist against the center of his chest where it hurt the most. Taking breaths through his nose, he forced his hand to unclench and smooth over the beating of his heart.

It was too fast, the way it was beating. Like it was breaking all over again. That’s what it felt like. Not like when Ohno had rejected him. No... It felt like the weeks afterwards. When he’d had to face the fact that he was going to have to live this way: alone and without Satoshi. Forever. Reality setting in is always a bitch.

But this didn’t feel like reality, not in this hazy little costume store that smelled like incense and looked like Halloween on crack. Nino shook his head, half-expecting to wake up. That mannequin out front looked exactly like Ohno. How was that possible? How could something like that exist? The emotions that had hit him-- practically slapped him across the face-- when he’d looked at that face for the first time in so many years, hurt. His entire body was hurting, damn it... And yet he couldn’t wait to get back out to it. Nino couldn’t wait to get close to it again. To look at the way the hands were molded or to see if the eyes were truly shaped as beautiful as Ohno’s were.

Oh God, what he’d give to look into those eyes again.

Nino washed his hands and exited the bathroom. Sho noticed the pale man’s cheeks had recovered some meager color, and he was glad even though he was still curious as to what had set the guy off. He’d really expected this  Nino-person to like the mannequin. He’d liked Count Apocalypse enough, but he’d reacted pretty strangely to the other one.

Or maybe he’d honestly been hit by a spontaneous bout of illness? Eh, Sho doubted it. Nino looked a little sheepishly at him and Aiba before asking if the owner was there.

“I’m supposed to report back to the president,” Nino explained, “So if I could just speak with him for a moment...”

Despite what he was saying, Sho could tell there was something else Nino wanted from the owner, and when he came back out ten minutes later, Nino smiled a little when he told them, “It’s official. I’m going to be working here as an assistant manager with you guys. The owner called the president and said he’d like me to stay on and help you out, Sho-kun, while he’s on his trip and since Aiba’s only part-time...”

And even though what Nino was saying made sense, Sho’s eyes immediately narrowed at the smaller man. There was nothing intimidating about Nino at that moment, and yet Sho felt like his competency was being challenged.

“I could have  handled the store alone, Ninomiya,” he said, trying to keep the tick out of his jaw. What had happened to the guy who, less than an hour ago, just wanted to get out of the shop and back to the city? What was it about that stupid mannequin that had changed everything?

As soon as he finished the thought, the back of his mind quietly apologized to his mannequin for calling his companion stupid, and even though they were across the store, he had the slightest feeling he was forgiven-- as long as it didn’t happen again.

“I know,” Nino told him, still sounding a little shaken, “But I’d still like to work here with you Sakurai, and... there’s something interesting about this place.”


	4. Memories

The owner remembered the first time he’d laid eyes on Matsumoto Jun. He remembered saying that Jun wasn’t nearly as special as his lover had made him out to be… But what he remembered _actually_  thinking was that Jun was more than just special. Jun was all soft, white light, shy smiles, and diligence. The boy had such a work ethic to him. The owner had never met someone who could work so hard and smile so brightly at the same time.

His lover was the one to point out that Jun was just happy. Jun loved what he was doing. Unlike the majority of mankind, Jun wasn’t looking for more. Jun had set his goals, and he was happily achieving them. When he was just a skinny little slip of a teen, Jun had inherited the bookstore his uncle left him.

It had been perfect for Jun, because the young man loved reading, but it was when he took up a pen and paper that he was truly happy. Jun wrote clever prose, and the owner’s lover used to like to sit on their small porch and read it aloud, but Jun would also come up with these intriguing plays he’d sell for almost nothing in the shop or to local theater groups. The owner was envious because his lover seemed to be to so taken by the boy who was gracefully becoming a man… But, little by little, the owner started to understand, because he couldn’t help but be a little bewitched by Jun as well. Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized his own affection for the younger man until it was too late.

As the laws of the world go, Jun’s happiness wasn’t meant to last forever. The owner will never, ever forget the summer of the letter. It was hand-delivered to Jun’s door. The owner’s love had been watching. The world had been different then, and they’d had an apartment across the street from Jun’s. There’d been three women and one man in uniform, and that man in uniform had a bag full of letters. One of which had a specific message for Jun.

Jun was going away. He was called to serve his emperor. He was called to serve all of Japan. He was called to fight. He was called to war.

And there was no place in that world torn by impossible goals and debilitating pride for a quiet man with shy smiles who wrote beautiful poetry.

The first time it happened, the owner’s lover had been there to protect Jun. He had gotten there in time to save Jun’s arm when it was caught in the machinery on the ship. His lover’s magic was strong enough to return the limb to it’s original form, but the owner still woke some nights to the sound of Jun’s screams through clenched teeth and the vision of torn flesh.

The second time, his lover almost hadn’t been able to save Jun at all… and it had taken sacrifices on every end to keep him alive. Jun became what he remained to be nearly 70 years later-- a body preserved in a wooden case. The owner’s lover was stripped of much of his power, having expended many a year’s worth on Jun alone, and the owner?

The owner had lost his lover except for one week out of every year. That week was the only time they were allowed to be together, and there was only one day out of that week during which his lover’s weakness would subside. It’s important to understand now that it isn’t within the laws of the natural or supernatural world to interfere with death. It’s not allowed, with very few exceptions.

Jun’s life was desperately argued, through frantic incantations and fear-soaked tears, to be an exception--but it had come at a great cost.

For the first 40-odd years, Jun did not wake. Like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White trapped in her glass coffin, waiting for her prince, Matsumoto Jun had lain dormant in his shell. The owner remembered hauntingly lonely weeks upon weeks in which he’d wondered if his lover had left him alone to guard a shelled corpse for all eternity. Was this the fate their love had bought them?

But then his lover would return, for that week, and he’d remind the owner of the nature of the spell.

The spell was wrought by the most powerful magic of all. It was conjured in love-- and while both the owner and his enchanting lover had loved Matsumoto Jun enough to sacrifice so much of their own happiness, it hadn’t been enough. The spell was forced to borrow from a future love-- a love that had not yet come to be. And with the traverse of space and time to borrow the greatest power the world has ever known, from an unsuspecting heart, comes a heavy price.

And that price takes its time to be paid.

The week was approaching, he could feel it. The owner didn’t know the exact date his lover would return, but he could sense it in the air around him. It was almost time, and it was why he was taking his trip. He would have time alone with his love. Although, with the return of his lover came Jun and Captain’s One Day.

The One Day was a bit of magic the owner’s lover had been able to gift Jun and Captain, and it only lasted a day out of the entire year… but for that day, they could be human again.

The spell they were under always returned Jun and Captain to their wood-encased forms, it was so much stronger than his lover’s power alone, and the owner both looked forward to their One Day--their single day of human normalcy and happiness-- but he dreaded the change-back afterwards. Every time, they all knew it wouldn’t last, they hadn’t found what they needed, and yet, every time, they hoped it would.

As the owner sank back into his chair by a small window through which the hazy pinks and grays of the morning was edging over the building beside his, he couldn’t help but think this is going to be the last time. It has to be.

Because looking at the smooth skin of his ungloved hand exposed his secret, and he wasn’t sure he wanted immortality anymore if it continued this way much longer. Eying the supple leather gloves he knew he’d soon have to put back on, the owner wondered if he could give fate a little push.

Across town from where the owner was reminiscing, planning, and hoping; Sakurai Sho was waking from an incredible dream.

Eyes blinking open, Sho couldn’t help but roll a grin into his pillow. It wasn’t often he dreamed so vividly and was able to remember it upon waking, so he savored the memory before the daylight hours came to chase it away.

He’d dreamt of a slender man, in light clothing… light in fabric and light in color. The style was old fashioned with a straw, wide-brimmed hat. Almost like a watercolor, the image of the man danced through Sho’s mind in warm, sun-faded colors. In the dream, they’d been running through a field. Walking along a path, then barefoot in a shallow pool. At one point, the man of his dreams was riding a bicycle and carrying a watermelon. At another, he was clutching a leather journal, a shy smile playing on his lips, as if he didn’t know Sho well… but then the eyes darted to the left. There was a spark of recognition in them, and Sho caught the sound of a high-pitched laugh, and it stuck someplace deep in his chest.

It had been summer...late summer, maybe, and a fine film of sweat had glistened at the man’s hairline. His eyes were soft and warm, brimming with laughter that echoed the young man’s wide smile. That smile radiated throughout Sho. Those dark eyes, crinkling at the corners; the striking eyebrows… the lips and the tiny mole dotting the upper--

Sho gasped and leapt out of bed. Hissing as his feet skidded across the cold floor, Sho grappled for pants and a t-shirt to pull over his head. Once dressed, he was rushing downstairs and calling, out loud, for Jun.

“You!” he pointed, accusingly, when he found the mannequin. It was too early for the store to be open and the shutters were still closed, so Jun and Captain were still moving around. Jun stepped backwards a little as Sho closed in, while Captain took a step forward; unsure of Sho’s intensity.

But Sho wasn’t angry, just excited, “I saw you! I saw you in my dreams! I dreamt of a man-- it was you! I know it was you. Jun, why? Why did I dream of you?”

“Of me? I don’t know. You dreamt of me?” Jun responded, his voice breathy and unsteady in Sho’s mind.

“Well, it wasn’t you exactly. It was a man. Flesh and blood, but I know-- I know he was you, Jun,” Sho urged.

“Show me,” Jun told him.

“What?”

“Just push the vision of the dream from your mind into mine. Closing your eyes sometimes helps. You just focus on sharing the entire thought instead of only the words and sounds. Try it. You’ll feel the passage between our minds open, that’s the telepathy, and then you just send forward what you want to share,” Jun rambled, and Sho looked to Captain.

Captain shrugged his shoulders (as much as his limited joints allowed) and dipped his head in a nodding motion, as if to say,  _That’s the gist of it._

So Sho gave it a shot. He closed his eyes, focused on the dream-- which was still so unnaturally vivid in his mind-- and felt something uncoil in his head as he tried to push the memory forward towards where Jun stood in front of him. Before he knew it, it was like a current was traveling between their minds, and Sho felt uncomfortably close to the beautiful mannequin.

He didn’t want to feel so close to Jun. It made his heart erratic, in it’s oddity. His hands itched, too,to feel something warm and solid beneath them. He needed to grip something, before he lost his footing. Before he slipped and fell into Jun’s strange pull in his mind.

“It’s me,” Jun’s voice broke his thoughts, “It’s a memory of me.”

“How?” Sho whispered, inside and out, so the words echoed in his head after he’d said them aloud. Not liking the repetition, Sho added only within the current connecting their minds, “I thought you said you couldn’t just enter my head like that? I thought you said I could control it.” Sho stifled the urge to reach out and grasp Jun’s arm to steady himself.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen myself from before…”Jun’s voice was distant. Captain moved closer to him.

“Jun.” Sho said pointedly, and the slender mannequin’s head snapped up to look at him. Sho’s bedhead left his hair sticking out in soft tufts around his head, and there were still traces of sleep left in his bewildered eyes.

“You control the connection when you’re awake,” Jun explained, knowing he’d mentioned it briefly before, “but you’re vulnerable when dreaming.”

“So--So you entered my dreams to show me what you used to look in a past life?” Sho’s voice rose.

“No!” Jun didn’t like the accusing tone Sho was taking, “It’s not my memory. Obviously. I can’t just watch myself.”

“Oh.”

“And it’s not from a ‘past life,’ either,” Jun told him, “This is the only life I’ve ever had.”

“Who did it then?!”

“Sho,” Captain’s warning was low as it entered his head, calmly, making Sakurai realize he’d lost his connection with Jun because Captain had heard him too.

“I’m sorry,” Sho amended, “I guess I was just shocked that the man in my dreams was you.”

“It’s fine,” Jun replied, but Sho wasn’t sure it was.

Sho wasn’t sure what to say then, so he fell silent. A minute passed before Captain muttered that he was going to the back of the shop for something. Sho watched the smaller wooden form creak and rattle away.

“I’m sorry you had memories forced onto you. I don’t know why anyone, especially  _someone_  in a fedora, would want to show you my past, anyway,” Jun murmured.

“Well, neither do I,” Sho responded, turning back to face Jun, “I mean, why focus on the past? You’re a mannequin now, or whatever, now and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jun sighed, and Sho bristled as the breath seemed to carry a note of disappointment through his mind.

“What?” Sho asked.

“How long has it been since you learned what I am?” Jun’s voice sounded oddly fatigued, otherwise Sho wouldn’t have bothered to answer. The question was obviously rhetorical.

“A week and three days,” he supplied.

“You never asked me, Sho,” Jun’s voice picked up a notch.

“Asked you what? What are you talking about?” Sho said, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes.

"You don’t know anything about me," Jun muttered, "And you haven’t asked. I expected you to be more curious."

Sho began to say that he was only being polite, that he didn’t think he should ask how on earth Jun came into existence—but then he stopped himself. Jun was right. He hadn’t been curious. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask about him.

Well, now his curiosity was piqued. Did it count?

“I’m curious,” Sho told him, “Will you tell me what happened to the man-- to you? Why are you a mannequin?”

“I’m under a spell,” Jun chose to explain, simply, “The…. the owner’s--oh I don’t know what they are anymore to each other-- his friend cast a spell to save me, and I became this.”

Sho couldn’t help but think of the smile of the man he’d seen in his dreams-- Jun’s smile-- and how pure it had been, and he blurted, “Saved from what? Did someone hurt you, Jun?”

The idea of someone hurting that man from his dream made bile rise in his throat.

“It was during the war… A lot of somethings hurt me, I think,” Jun tried to sound flippant, but the realization that formed in Sho’s eyes that was followed by concern made Jun’s heart thump hard within the shell.

“I can’t remember much anymore,” Jun continued, “Mostly just shadows and pain. I slept for many years after the spell was cast.”

“Who cast it, exactly? What kind of spell is it? Can it be broken?” Sho was earnestly curious now, and Jun wondered if he should feel ashamed for seeking this attention.

“It can be broken,” Jun chose to answer first, then added, “When the power of the magic that was used to encase me is overcome with a greater level of that same power, legend says that I will be human again.”

“Okay,” Sho nodded, “You want that, right? I mean, obviously. You want to be a human again. So what type of ‘Power’ are we looking for?

“You don’t have it,” Jun responded without a second thought, and Sakurai narrowed his eyes at him and scowled until Jun continued to explain what else he knew-- not only about his own spell, but also about the spell cast over Captain. Talk of the spell spilled over to talk about their lives as mannequins; what they did to pass the time, what kind of music Jun liked, how Captain liked to fish and the one time they learned that Captain floats...  Before they realized, the hours were slipping away and Sho gasped when he heard keys turning in the lock. It was Aiba's turn to open, and by the muffled sound of voices, Jun was certain Nino was with him!

"Hey Sho-kun," Aiba called out as he swung his backpack behind the counter, "Where are you hiding?"

"I don't think I've ever seen him late at the corporation," Nino commented, not looking up from his phone as he navigated his way through the store.

"Well I don't see him," Aiba said, "But the computer is on... Hey, how are you doing that?"

"Good peripheral vision," Nino muttered, not mentioning that his vision was pretty crappy without his contacts and he'd just grown accustomed to moving around without depending on sight, "Oh. Found him."

Nino stopped over by the fairytale costumes, and Aiba sniggered when he heard Nino asking, "What are you doing with that mannequin? Where are his pants? This is highly suspicious Sakurai..."

Aiba laughed and teased that Sho needed to manage his "alone time" with the mannequins better, and suddenly Nino squealed, "Does the other mannequin have pants on?"


	5. Regrets

Captain did have his pants on. He had greeted the owner at the backdoor to the store, and it was with him that Nino found the mannequin. An hour or two earlier, the pair had quietly decided to leave Jun and Sho alone to talk. The owner had briefly considered eavesdropping, but Captain didn’t think it was especially necessary… or really, he didn’t want to listen to certain topics he suspected they might discuss.

“What do you think of those two? You think Sho’s the one?” the owner had asked him, not bothering to hide his youth with the glamoured-fedora, bewitched that morning to a burnt orange color. His youthful eyes glimmered.

Captain knew exactly what the owner was referring to, but pretended ignorance, and instead asked what costume in the back room was ready for him to wear. The owner found a pirate ensemble, which was, of course, complete with a plumed hat to mark the mannequin as the bloodthirsty captain, the owner liked to keep this theme going. Despite knowing Captain for nearly twelve years (an entire decade of which was with Captain as a mannequin), he still decided to push the subject Captain never wanted to discuss: love. Did he still remember it? Or had he never been in love in the first place? Was that the problem? That he’d just been on the receiving end?

In turn, it took Captain less than three seconds to cooly change the topic.

An irritated but comfortable silence passed between them as the owner fastened buckles on Captain’s scabbard, but it didn’t last.

“He calls you by your given name,” the owner murmured under his breath. Captain might have been plotting his response when the owner went ahead and said, “I heard him refer to you that way in his thoughts.”

“Stay out of his head, Guardian,” Captain told him, firmly.

“I just thought, maybe now, you might like to use it again. You might like to let Jun at least call you Ohn--”

“No,” Captain cut him off, “I don’t want to hear that name. I’m not that person anymore.”

“You’re more him today than you were yesterday,” the owner countered, “And you’ll be him entirely very soon.”

“For a day,” the mannequin whispered, bitter.

“Perhaps,” the owner whispered telepathically instead of out loud, and he could almost hear the Captain snap to attention. His tension was instantly higher.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” the owner replied, “I’m sorry. You know better than to get your hopes up.”

“That’s right,” Captain’s voice was reedy and far away in the owner’s mind, “I do.”

Matsumoto had told Sho as much as he could about the spell itself. How long he’d been under it, what it felt like, how long he’d slept, how Captain had come into existence… but he didn’t specify the exact nature of the power they were seeking. He’d explained, to some extent, that the owner and his friend had loved Jun very much-- and that Jun had loved them both greatly in return. Even when the owner hadn’t really taken to him, Jun had liked him immediately. The owner had such a strong character; masculine and physical. He was a man with a strong, silent presence and a surprising sense of humor. Jun had instantly understood why his friend, the one who would later turn out to be magical and save his life, was so in love with the owner… But that was a long time ago, and Jun couldn’t be sure that even their love could survive so long with such little contact.

Jun felt sick thinking that he’d ruined their love. It was his fault. He felt like he’d stolen it.

So he always worked hard, desperately, to break the spell. Not just for himself, although regaining his humanity an incredible incentive, but for them. The memories of that late, hazy summer Sho had shown him felt more like a dream than anything, but they had remained vivid for someone else. He could barely remember being there, just like an adult remembers early childhood-- bits and pieces, emotions, misconceptions, and things that may or may not have actually been there. A part of him thinks there might have been a woman there. A woman in a dark….in a dark robe, or it must have been a dress. But that’s crazy because he also remembers the stifling heat, the sweat… and he doesn’t remember the owner or his friend interacting with her. So she must not have been there. Either way, the memory that Sho seemed so excited about was bittersweet and vague to him.

But anyway, all the research and knowledge of incantations and enchantments wouldn’t bring him the power he needed to break the spell. It was hopeless, unless he found the person from whom his friend had borrowed love from…and there was no telling who or where Jun would find him (or her, Jun didn’t want to write women off completely), or when. It could be another hundred years from now, or maybe he’d missed him yesterday… No. He couldn’t be negative. He had to break the spell over him so he could help Captain, and then his friends would have their lives back. Thinking about it reminded Jun that he’d have to ask the owner what he was trying to achieve by showing Sho what he looked like “in the flesh.” Did he think that Sho would be interested in the pretty face he used to have? A lot of women, and men, had been interested in his pretty face all those years ago… but that wasn’t what he wanted or needed. Superficial lust or infatuation wasn’t enough to save him then, and it wasn’t going to help anyone now.

Jun wasn’t sure what he wanted from Sho, if anything… but he knew he didn’t want that.

Just as Jun was thinking these rather depressing thoughts about him, Sho popped around the corner… with an annoyingly adorable expression on his face. Jun found Sho far too charmingly clueless lately. The man wasn’t a jerk, like he’d initially feared when he learned he didn’t take the time the learn his co-workers’ names. Sho’s head had just been focused elsewhere, he’d been blindsided by the need to prove himself … and okay, Sho was a little bit of a jerk, but not so much as to ruin him for Jun. Jun had the inkling suspicion, as much as he wanted to deny it, that he might like men who were just slightly jerks, as long as their hearts were good. Who wants a perfectly nice person, anyway? Jun didn’t trust people like that anymore.

Not that he liked Sho, he quickly reminded himself.

“What are you thinking about?” Sho’s voice cut through Jun’s thoughts, and the mannequin realized his thinking about the man might have accidentally blocked out anything Sho had been trying to say.

“You,” Jun replied, faking an air of annoyance.

“Me? What did I do? Is this about the pants?”

“No,” Jun snapped.

Sho’s eyes crinkled as his mouth curved into a crooked grin, “Good, because you’re the one who panicked and told me to help you change and it’s not my fault my brain subconsciously went for the pants first.”

“Your brain’s a pervert.”

“Maybe,” Sho agreed, then picked up some costumes to rehang so he looked busy, “Anyway, I was thinking about you too.”

“Oh?” Jun was glad he didn’t have cheeks that could blush.

“Yeah. I was thinking that maybe if I don’t have the power you need now, I could get it. My position with the company grants me benefits and access to a rather unlimited amount of resources. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll find a way to get it for you.”

Jun’s voiced “hmm”ed a little in Sho’s mind, and his confidence in his idea waned a little as Jun took his time to respond.

“Thank you, Sho,” Jun finally said, and Sho was reminded of the smaller smile from his dream, “but I’m not sure the power is something you can get for me, and I’m not sure where to look to find it.”

“Well, could it possibly be sourced from a rock or mineral or something, like Kryptonite? Or maybe an old enchanted relic, like in Lord of the Rings?”

“I like Western movies too,” Jun snorted, “but this isn’t the sort of power you can buy.”

“Well, I didn’t say I was going to buy it,” Sho said aloud, earning a look from Aiba. He worried for a second about how crazy he looked, but then Nino quipped, “Hey, are you on your phone? What kind of service do you get in here? Because mine is terrible.”

Sho awkwardly pretended to finish a phone call, then cleared his throat and told Nino which provider and phone he used, earning a low whistle from Nino about having the latest iphone.

“It gets easier after a while,” Jun’s voice assured in his head.

“What does?” Sho responded in like, pocketing his phone.

“Talking to me without looking crazy.”

“I don’t want it to get easier,” Sho said, shoving a costume back on the rack, “I want it to not be necessary. I want you to be like you were in that dream.”

“Pretty?”

“Happy,” Sho retorted instantly, but didn’t raise his head from the costume rack, “You’re pretty enough now.”

“You said I was creepy,” Jun reminded him.

“Yeah, well, you’re that too,” Sho teased, looking up to smile.

A small boy, whose mother Sho had spoken to earlier about doraemon costumes, came bursting out of a circular rack, giggling and shrieking about dragons. Sho started to smile, and knelt to catch the kid, when the boy made a sharp turn and knocked right into Jun. Unable to stop himself, Jun toppled forward and Sho barely had time to turn and catch him. The awkward angle-- or perhaps fate-- made it so their faces made contact as their bodies hit, and Jun’s mouth landed square on Sakurai’s.

It would have been straight out of a television drama, if Sho hadn’t ended up with a fat lip. While Jun’s mannequin lips had looked arguably tempting before, those things were hard. The pain barely registered to Sho, though, as he flusteredly asked Jun (out loud, again) if he was alright.

Luckily, the sound of the fall had Aiba and the boy’s mother running over, and the mother was quick to assure Sho that her boy was fine and that he had saved him.  
Sho just nodded, because it hadn’t occurred to him at all to be worried if the boy was alright.

“You okay, Sho-kun?” Aiba asked as the mother led her boy to the register where Nino was waiting.

“Yeah,” Sho replied, pushing himself up.

“You know you’re bleeding, right?”

“What?” Sho’s hand flew to his mouth, and when he brought his fingertips away, they were tipped with blood.

“Caught him with your face, huh?” Aiba smiled, “Do you want a wet paper towel or something?”

“Nah, I’ll get it. Just let me sit him back up first,” Sho answered, “Thanks, though.”

“Mmk,” Aiba said, turning and smiling himself away.

“Ah, your lip,” Jun’s voice was worried and apologetic in Sho’s mind, “I’m so sorry. We have a first aid kit in the washroom. There should be ointment there. Or you can get an icepack from the freezer in back. We have them there for when Aiba tries to build something.”

“It’s okay, Jun,” Sho dabbed at his lip with his sleeve, “I’ll survive. I just need to wash it off and hope I don’t look like a duck… my lips are big enough already.”

“Yeah,” Jun agreed.

“What?” Sho asked, having half-expected Jun to say something witty about him looking like a duck.

“Your lips are big,” Jun said, then hurriedly added, “I mean, they’re fuller than most people’s. I mean, they get a little puffy when you eat curry. I mean--”

“I get it,” Sho cut him off, “My lips are large… and now the bottom is even bigger. Maybe I should put ice on it.”  
He was still holding Jun, which made it hard for Jun to get the right words out, and he willed his nerves to calm down before he said anything else that was stupid, but then Sho’s thumb brushed over his cheek and all logical thought escaped him. Sho was so warm.

“Your hair fell forward,” Sho’s voice was soft in his head, mirroring the slight caress.

“Uh,” Jun’s voice stuttered slightly then quieted, and Sho smiled, fat lip and all, as he set Jun up in a standing position.

“I better get myself cleaned up,” Sho told him, backing away, “Then I have to get some real work done… but I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Sho didn’t bother to add that his heart was pounding hard enough, he could feel the beat in his lip, or that his palms were sweating where they’d held Jun… and he didn’t even try to rationalize as to why.

The rest of the morning went more smoothly, and Jun pretended not to notice the way his chest tightened when Sho went to join Nino at the computer and the man’s slim arms continuously brushed against Sho’s as they tried to manipulate the keyboard and mouse simultaneously. Aiba was just getting ready to head over to the restaurant to help with the lunch rush when the door jingled, and a man with bleached hair and noticeably expensive sunglasses walked in. He looked slick and suave, and Nino smirked a little behind the counter. Aiba started to put his backpack down so he could help the man, he still had a few minutes before his shift was up, but Nino stopped him.

“You go ahead,” he told his gangly friend, “I got this one.”

Nino didn’t know it, but his interest in the new customer was what alerted Sho that someone had entered the store. He hadn’t heard the door, but he did hear Captain ask Jun if he thought the guy was good looking.

“Yeah, he’s handsome,” Jun responded, and he and Sho both felt Captain’s presence stiffening, “but he knows it too… His shoes are fantastic, though. Why do you care? Because Nino’s helping him?”

“No.”

“Who are you two talking about?” Sho asked, standing up from where he’d been sitting and crunching numbers on his iPad. He wanted to see who Jun thought was handsome.

“Oh shit,” Sho muttered in his head, so only Captain and Jun could hear. The mannequins were about to ask what the problem was when the blonde man noticed him, and the cocky features split into a smile that was just a little too wide, in Jun’s opinion.

“Sho-kun,” the man purred as he approached, and both Nino’s and Aiba’s jaws dropped as the stranger immediately wrapped his arms around Sho’s waist, “I’ve missed you, babe. It’s so hard, now that you’re working all the way out here. I just had to come visit you.”

The man’s lips pouted and his arms slung low on Sho’s waist. Jun’s face was positioned to look directly at them. He couldn’t turn away.

“Hey,” Sho greeted and tried to create a little bit of distance between himself and the guy, but it was impossible. The arms only tightened, with one hand falling dangerously low on his ass.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it out to the party,” Sho tried, “But you know this is going to keep me busy for a while… Maybe next time?”

“The hotel was fantastic,” the blonde spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, “You should have seen how they redesigned the bar, Sho-kun.”

The man’s voice quickly took on a whining tone, and Sho wondered why he’d ever thought this guy was worth his time. Lesson learned: just because it’s good in bed doesn’t mean it’ll be good anywhere else… This man was annoying.

“Hey, hey,  _hun_ ,” Sho tried the pet name to catch his former-lover’s attention, and it worked. Because Sho didn’t like to garner attention with personal conversations, he lowered his voice so that only the man pressed against him could hear, “I know it’s tough, but remember how I told you I might need some space while I get this all sorted out?”

“You didn’t mean that,” Blondie hissed quietly, his eyes hardened; he hadn’t expected rejection.

“Well,” Sho tried not to roll his eyes, “I kind of did, and I’m working right now.”

The man fish-mouthed a little bit, but when he found his voice, it was biting and went from whiny to bitchy until Sho relented, apologized, and offered to take the guy across the street for lunch. The man, ready to take this as a victory, denied Sho’s offer and exited dramatically, adding, “Don’t bother calling, Sho. I’ll call you.”

When the man’s car had exited the parking lot, Sho slumped against the counter and sighed. “What the hell was that? Your boyfriend?” Nino asked, sounding both amused and horrified. Aiba just looked horrified.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Sho muttered, not lifting his chin from the counter, “As you can see, he’s a charming individual.”

“He’s not super pleased with you right now,” Aiba commented, and his face clearly read that he wasn’t super pleased with Sho’s taste in men.

“He’ll get over it,” Sho murmured and wondered if Aiba thought less of him now.

But it turned out that it wasn’t Aiba’s good opinion that he should have been worried about. When Sakurai finally made his way back to Jun, gingerly fingering his bruised mouth because he still couldn’t forget how he’d caught Jun while he’d already forgotten all about his ex, Sho was greeted with silence. Even though he tried twice to start up a conversation with the beautiful mannequin, Jun didn’t say anything for a long while.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Captain’s voice rang in Sho’s head instead, and Sakurai almost flinched.

“I don’t,” he told them both, annoyed by the thought.

“Yeah, you didn’t mention him that night you took Jun upst--”

“Shut up, Captain,” Jun snapped, and Sho’s eyes shot to him.

“I haven’t dated that guy for a while now,” Sho stressed, “And we were never serious.”

“You two looked pretty close,” Jun muttered before he could help himself.

“Well we weren’t,” Sho replied, “The only thing he was ever serious about was my name and my money.”

“Ah,” Captain sounded pleased, as if this was what he’d been waiting to hear. Jun was quiet.

Sho waited another moment for Jun to say something before adding, "He's just another regret now. Don't you have any of those?"

"What?" Jun asked, hesitant.

"Regrets. Someone you wish you never dated, or someone you wish you'd given a chance."

"Not really," Jun's voice was quiet.

"Well how about you, Captain?" Sho asked, hoping for an ally, "Don't you have any regrets?"

"Regrets?" Captain's voice was quiet too, and Sho was taken aback by how hollow it sounded, "Yeah. I've got one."

Across the store, they could hear Nino singing to himself about dirty hands and ruination as he sorted baubles into containers.


	6. Curious Days and Fiery Nights

The following morning didn’t start well. Aiba cut himself with the box-cutter after Sho accidentally stumbled into him while he was slicing open a package. Swearing there was something on the floor that tripped him, Sho hovered as Nino cleaned and bandaged Aiba’s palm.

Watching the small hands move quickly and efficiently over the slice down the fleshy part of Aiba’s hand, Sho pressed his lips together after the smaller man shushed him. Nino told Aiba, on the other hand, that he could make all the noise he wanted because he was the one who had gotten hurt. Aiba didn’t whine or cry, though, instead appearing more interested in watching the peroxide sizzle and Nino apply butterfly bandages to keep the cut together. It wasn’t deep enough that he needed to go to the doctor, but it wasn’t necessarily shallow either. But they’d run it under the faucet, and Sho thought Nino seemed competent enough.

“You think it’ll leave a scar?” Aiba asked, sounding more hopeful than worried.

“Not if you keep it clean and take care of it like I tell you to,” Nino answered.

Nino was wrapping gauze around the injured hand when a familiar jingle had Sho’s head turning to the front of the store. Seeing that it was just a young man in a trendy hoodie and baggy short-pants, Sho figured he’d let the guy browse for a bit. In his experience (and generally, in his own preference), young people liked time to shop and would approach an attendant if they wanted assistance. Sho just moved from behind the counter to greet the man and let him know where he was if he wanted help.

But as he did, Sho noticed the man was walking briskly, with purpose, through the store. He wasn’t even looking at the costumes, and when he pushed his hood from his head, the guy had a head full of pinkish hair that faded to an ashy color. He was striking, even though his cheeks were sweetly round.

Just as he was about to walk right past him, Sho stepped in front of him. “Can I help you?”

The young man looked up, surprised to be stopped.

“No,” he replied, simply.

Then he grinned at Sho, revealing endearing dimples, and continued on his way. As he walked right past the counter, Aiba gave him a little wave that the young guy returned.

“He’s back here, right?” the stranger asked, pointing.

“Yep,” Aiba responded as Sho and Nino watched the exchange, confused.

“Got a mannequin with him?”

“Yeah. Both, I think.”

“Thanks,” the guy said before disappearing into the back room.

Sho turned to Aiba, “You could have told me you knew him.”

“I forgot you didn’t know him,” Aiba shrugged, “He comes every month. It feels like you’ve been here longer.”

“You too, Nino-kun,” Aiba added when Nino opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, who is he?” Nino asked, determined to have opened his mouth for a reason. Aiba read him far too easily, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Massu-kun,” Aiba supplied. Still fascinated by his bandaged hand, Aiba didn’t look up as he ran a careful finger over the taped gauze and continued, “He’s a friend of the owner. Or maybe he’s in the business. I’m not sure. They have some sort of secret meeting every month.”

“The owner meets with him every month? That guy?” Nino asked, skeptical.

“Every month,” Aiba replied, now looking at the blood drying on his t-shirt where he’d swiped his palm earlier.

“And you don’t know why?” Nino pressed.

“Nope.”

“You’re not curious?” Sho asked, because he was growing curious. The guy had asked if the mannequins were there. Did he know about them? Is that why he was here? Because of Jun?

“You two are like little old ladies,” Aiba chuckled, “Just ask the owner later, if Massu bothers you. I like him.”

“You like everyone, Aiba-kun,” Nino sighed, and Aiba laughed again. He’d rather learn dislike, or worse, ambivalence, for a person instead of starting out that way. But Nino was different from him when it came to people, and Aiba accepted that. He liked Nino, too.

 

 

In the back room, Masuda “Massu” Takahisa found the owner at a sewing machine. He looked up to see Massu approaching, and wordlessly moved toward a sitting area he’d created that was more cushions-on-the-floor than actual seating.

“What’s the good news?” the owner asked congenially, but he was a little concerned. He hadn’t expected to see Massu before the week with his lover and the mannequins’ One Day. Was something wrong? They weren’t from the same sect, but he and Massu were both Guardians of lifebinding yosei. The owner was charged with the protection of those under his lover’s spell, and Massu guarded the temple and well-being of his yumemi, or dream walker, Lifebinder.  Tegoshi Yuya, the  yosei that Massu guarded, was currently rather important to the owner's own charges-- and if Tegoshi wasn’t safe, none of them were, including his lover, in his weakened state.

Speaking of Tegoshi, the owner cleared his throat to ask about him, too “How’s your dream-crashing, monster trapperkeeper doing?”

“Trapperkeeper,” Massu repeated, his smile small, before adding, “He’s not walking through as many dreams these days… Or, at least, he’s not walking through mine.”

“Well he hasn’t been with me. Tegoshi knows better than that.”

“He’s getting weaker,” Masuda sighed.

The pink-haired guardian flopped on a cushion, grabbing a pillow. The way he sat had his shirts caught up in the back, and the owner caught a glimpse of well-defined muscle moving beneath the skin as Massu adjusted. The temple-dwelling guardian trained diligently, maintaining a strict balance between physical, mental, and magical strength. The owner didn’t train, he had confidence in his own abilities as they were, but at the same time, he and Massu were guarding very different things. There was a reason Masuda could move small boulders while the owner was rather good at refinishing wooden limbs.

The owner’s tension rose, “How badly is it draining his power? The kekkai is still strong, isn’t it?”

“Tegoshi doesn’t wake in this world at all anymore,” Massu didn’t look up, as if the thought pained him, “He still looks the same, like he’s just sleeping, but his hair… it’s almost white.”

The owner’s eyes sharpened in the shadows. This wasn’t sounding good. “Does he have a message for me?” the owner asked briskly, taking the authoritative tone of a Guardian, which he so rarely used.

“He does,” Masuda straightened, matching the serious tone.

The owner’s voice lost a bit of its edge when he thought of his lover and added, “Does  _he_?”

“Yasuda?” Massu asked, although the question was unnecessary, “Yasuda Shota, Lifebinder, also leaves a message for you, Guardian.”

“Don’t call me that,” the owner sighed, nervous yet pleased to know he’d be receiving word from Yasu, “Subaru is fine.”

  


Aiba had left to get a fresh tee shirt from the restaurant after Sho told him there was no way he could work, even in the horror section, with blood on his shirt, when the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a rather imposing-looking woman.

Nino greeted her immediately, but when she sniffed down her nose at him, her regal chin held high in the air, Sho realized it was time to turn on his charm that can only come from a background in high society. Nino, who was regularly able to charm the pants off of anyone, was insulted and turned away to sulk with in the contemporary costume section with a particular mannequin.

Sho behaved like a snobbish, overly-competent manager, and was met with mild acceptance from the woman as she lowered her gaze to meet his. “I am in need of an ensemble for the festival, and I was told this shop offers unique costumes that will meet my standards… although that remains to be seen.”

“Allow me to pull some garments for you,” Sho said, smiling and gesturing to a seating area by the dressing rooms.

“Bring them to me. I’m going to look around; see what I can find for myself.”

“Right away,” Sho nodded and turned away, walking past Nino to hear the younger man muttering unflattering remarks about the haughty woman to Captain, who was agreeing with him even though Nino couldn’t hear it. Sho found the period pieces and retrieved a few he thought his great-aunt might wear. He didn’t like this woman, didn’t like the way she’d treated Nino or sized him up-- and he especially got an off-putting feeling from the way the woman stared at Jun when she found him.

Sho had returned with her costumes to find her engrossed with Jun, fingering his costume and then his hair and his face…. and Sho had quickly cleared his throat and steered her away. He couldn’t understand why, but he really hadn’t liked that woman being so close to Jun.

Both he and Nino were glad to see her leave.

 

It was around 3 in the afternoon when Aiba returned from the lunch rush, having been wrangled into staying at the restaurant, and ominous, black clouds were rolling in from the east. Sho was gathering up fantasy accessories; wands, sparkling amulets, etc., so he could take his work over to where Jun was standing, when the owner came out with Sho’s tablet in his hand.

The fantasy section wasn’t far from the counter, and he probably could have stayed there and carried a conversation with the mannequin just fine, but he’d just finished going over spending costs with Ninomiya, and was a little wary of how sharp the leaner man was. If he slipped and accidentally spoke to Jun outloud, he didn’t know what Nino would think of him-- or report back to his father.

So Sho had just settled down next to Jun, fingers fiddling with a strap at the mannequin’s ankle. He was irritated by Jun’s continued silence toward him, and was trying to think of a way to convince the mannequin that he didn’t care for his ex (although that didn’t seem to be the answer Jun wanted either), when  the owner beckoned him back over to join them. Sho got up, begrudgingly because he’d just sat down and had wanted to just stick by Jun for a while, planning to eventually get back on his good side.

"Okay, I’m back," he told the owner as he rested on his elbows on the counter before raising an eyebrow at the owner, "And what are you doing with my iPad?"

"I’m using it. Does that bother you? I’ll ask next time," the owner returned casually, "See, I created a schedule and list of objectives for the rest of the month."

"Why—" Sho started, but the owner wasn’t finished.

"Since Ninomiya here has joined us full time, I thought now might be a good time to take my trip,” Subaru, the owner, started. After Massu shared Tegoshi and Yasuda's messages, Subaru discussed plans of action with the other Guardian and it was decided that it was time he paid Tegoshi a visit at the temple-- at least until Yasu joined him. The message from Tegoshi was shared via a memory Masuda held from a brief visit Tegoshi had made to his dreams-- but the message had been vague, dark, and almost like a grimace. A twist of Tegoshi’s shoulder, and Subaru had caught a glimpse of the monster Tegoshi’s kekkai was imprisoning.

And it wasn’t good.

“Obviously, Sakurai, you will be in charge. I expect you’ll be able to handle everything. After all, what is a small costume shop in comparison to an entire department? Although… I do expect you to know all of your co-workers’ names," Subaru continued, teasing lightly.

"I won’t forget them," Sho retorted, and Aiba chuckled while Nino smiled a small smile that Sho couldn’t glare at, even if he wanted to. This Nino was going to be trouble, Sho could just tell. Turning back to the owner, he added, "So when are you leaving?"

“Soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tonight. Maybe now.”

“Right now?” Nino asked as Sho listened to a chorus of complaints burst from the fantasy  section and a question or two from the  contemporary section.  Jun’s voice was clearer, as he was closer. Captain was towards the front of the store, and impossible for Sho to understand… but Sho didn’t think he was happy.

“Well, I’ll head home to pack first. If you need me, just give me a call… Are you going to need me?” Subaru directed the question to Sho, who shook his head quickly.

“We will be fine,” Sho responded, although he couldn’t help but add, telepathically, “But you’re upsetting Jun.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s been upsetting him,” Subaru responded before saying out loud, “Alright! I’m off! Try not to call me!”

 

Less than an hour after the owner left, Sho noticed the sky outside was growing darker and the wind was picking up. He wondered just how bad this storm was going to be, and he also wondered if a different type of storm was brewing within the store.

For the past 45 minutes, Aiba had been going on about the various dreams he had. He dreamed of cooking on variety shows. He dreamed of working with exotic animals. He dreamed of owning a monkey. He dreamed of having a spa. He dreamed of playing the saxophone for a stadium full of people.

This sort of wishful thinking didn’t seem to really bother Nino, except that Nino wasn’t exactly supportive. Which Sho wouldn’t have noticed if Jun hadn’t wondered what was bugging the smaller man. Jun thought that Nino looked about ready to cave in on himself. Somehow, though, Sho had cared more about the fact that Jun was talking to him, albeit a little, than Nino’s sour mood.

But then Aiba started talking about a future filled with people he loved. People who made him smile-- people he adored. And Aiba had dreams of the life he’d like to lead all around Japan with these loved ones.

And Nino snapped.

“Dreams are something you’ll lose one day,” Nino spat, silencing Aiba, and he almost regretted saying it when he saw the way the excitement in the other man’s eyes flickered and faltered. He didn’t take the words back though. Instead, his shoulders just slumped a little more and the possibility of the young man caving in on himself seemed even more probable. Sakurai didn’t like it.

“Don’t tell him that, Nino,” Sho scolded, “If you plan accordingly and work hard enough, you can achieve anything. You can make your dreams come true.”

“No you can’t. That’s bullshit,” Nino retorted, “No amount of hard work is going to make Aiba the king of fucking England.”

“No...,” Sho ceded, then added thoughtfully, “But the dream isn’t to have the title, right? It’s to have what the title represents-- and that could be achieved. I shudder to think how, and the name Hitler comes to mind, but you get my point.”

“Whatever,” Nino muttered, fingers fumbling over scraps of fabric on the counter, “I get your point, now get mine: Some dreams are more specific. Some dreams are one of a kind and can only be fulfilled once... And some dreams can be lost before you’ve reached them. Sometimes, sometimes your dreams can be living things, and sometimes those things--those things that you love more than you’ve ever loved anything-- can die. And hard work isn’t going to bring them back...  Now where the fuck are Ohno’s hands!?”

Nino’s voice rose, nearly breaking, as he yelled the last part. Both Sho and Aiba were taken aback, and Aiba couldn’t stop his own eyes from prickling when he saw that Nino’s were glistening angrily.

“Who’s Ohno?” Aiba whispered just as Sho asked, “You named the mannequin?”

Nino’s cheeks flushed. He hadn’t meant to say the name out loud; didn’t mean to ever let anyone else know that the mannequin meant anything to him... or really, that it looked like someone who had meant something to him. Nino inwardly cursed and chose not to answer either of them as he pushed past them to get to the accessories display where, lo and behold, the tawny mannequin’s hands were posed with chainlink, fingerless gloves.

“Get out of there,” Nino muttered to the hands as he unlocked the case, his own fingers shaking and making the key miss the mark twice before he got it in, twisted, and  could  push the glass panel aside to snatch the hands out.

Nino walked briskly across the store to where the handless mannequin was dressed in a prison costume with the stumps of his arms tucked behind him to make it seem like his wrists were bound. Neither Sho nor Aiba had noticed that the owner had taken the mannequin’s hands off; it wasn’t especially visible from the counter or where they’d been hanging new costumes... but Nino had obviously noticed.

Aiba and Sho both jumped when Nino swore again, and then Aiba was hopping over the counter to rush over and see what had happened.

“We have to watch people who come in here with kids,” Nino said, anger edging his words.

“Why? Did someone spill something? Is something ripped? Is it ruined?” Sakurai asked quickly, always mindful of a lost sale.

“No, but that kid in here earlier must have spilled something on Oh-- on this mannequin. His face is fucking wet.”

And sure enough, there were clear droplets leaving wet tracks down the mannequin’s cheeks.

“What a sick joke,” muttered Sho when he saw it,  “To make it look like he’s crying. Like he’s being executed or something.”

“Shut up,” Nino whispered.

“How do you think the kid did that?” Aiba asked quietly, “You don’t think he spit on him, do you?”

“Oh God, I’m getting a washcloth,” Nino yelped and ran off to the back room. Sho went back to the front, shaking his head, and  Aiba used his sleeve to wipe the mannequin’s face before following.

  


"Captain... Captain! You cried! I saw it!" Jun whispered across their connection, his voice echoing in awe and confusion.

"Real Tears! At least six of them!" Jun continued, "How did you do that?"

He waited a moment for Captain to respond, but there was nothing but silence.

"Captain? Captain! Answer me!" Jun pleaded, suddenly a little afraid. For Captain to be able to cry real tears, when it wasn’t his One Day, was amazing. It was impossible. It wasn’t like anything that had ever happened to either of them before. Jun couldn’t ignore it.

It wasn’t often he pushed across their connection. It was usually Captain that would enter his mind, gentle and warm, so they wouldn’t feel alone. So they could share the thought of an embrace and let their thoughts and memories intertwine...

But this time, Jun was scrambling back out of Captain’s head as quickly as he entered it. Perhaps faster even. When he’d gotten into Captain’s head. When he’d crossed the barrier...

Captain was screaming.

And in that half-second, Jun felt more pain than he’d ever known.

 

Later that night, Captain had wandered off almost as soon as the doors locked, just as the shutters were being closed, and the taller mannequin couldn’t help but wonder if Captain was taking unnecessary risks... If he was hurting again. Although this time, Jun was too afraid to ask.

Instead, he walked cautiously, trying to keep his joints from creaking too loudly, around the store. It was pouring down rain outside, and every once in awhile, he could hear the thunder in the distance. Sho had gone across the street with Aiba and a moody Nino, so the mannequins were alone... Not being able to immediately see Captain was disconcerting. It reminded Jun too much of the lonely days before Captain, when it had just been him and the owner, and the owner had had to go home or away somewhere. Panic gripped his chest as he suddenly wondered if Captain had left him. If Captain had tried to go outside.

He’d be destroyed! Jun’s echo of a heart was beating hard. There was no way a walking wooden person wouldn’t frighten people, and people generally kill what scares them. Jun couldn’t survive losing his friend.

"Captain?!"

Or, what had Nino called him?

"Ohno?!"

"I’m over here, Jun-kun," Captain--no-- Ohno’s quiet voice sounded tired, but Jun was so relieved to hear it. Following the connection, Jun found him on the floor surrounded by clothes, strewn paper, and some pencils. It looked like he was trying to write or draw again, although Jun was sure Ohno had given up on both of those. Their fingers were  fused. There was no way they could grip a pencil. Ohno knew this.

"Are you okay?" Jun asked, already believing his friend wasn’t.

Ohno didn’t reply at first, but then Jun felt Ohno’s warmth probing softly and he welcomed him into his head. There was a moment when Jun just tried to think of things to comfort Ohno. Thoughts of hugs, a shoulder to lean on, and fingers intertwined... but then Ohno replayed the memory that was hurting him.

It was from before, when Nino had brought Ohno’s hands back to him. Jun had only been able to see the back of Nino then, but even so, he’d noticed that Nino had pressed himself awfully close to the other mannequin. What Jun hadn’t been able to see or hear was what Ohno was showing him now.

Nino’s body was pressed right up against Ohno’s front, and even through hard exterior of the wooden body, he could feel the thin man’s warmth. He could feel his heartbeat.... And he could feel it, although barely, when the slight man’s lips pressed against Ohno’s painted ones.

“I have one wish...I don't wish on a star, but pray softly to you,” Nino whispered, lips still touching Ohno’s, “Because that is a miracle that only you can make happen.”

And then Nino was pulling back, touching his face. Nino’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was the wetness. Jun felt it now too, running down Ohno’s cheeks in the memory. Tears. Teardrops.

And so much pain.

Ohno withdrew himself, abruptly, leaving Jun cold and sad in his own hollow shell of a wooden body. Crying on the inside, he spoke brokenly to Ohno, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..."

Ohno echoed that he was sorry too, but Jun’s mind was still reeling from the pain they’d shared.

 

The storm peaked late, and Sho woke with a jolt to the sound of heavy rain pounding the windowpanes. The wind was strong, forcing the rain to hit horizontally against the building. It was quickly followed by rolling thunder that practically shook the apartment. Looking at the clock, Sho groaned at the hour. He didn’t want to be awake at 2 when he’d have to get up in a few hours for work. Luckily for him, he could sleep through almost anything. Sho just smooshed his pillow around his ears and worked his way back to sleep.

Just as he was drifting off, he remembered that Nino was downstairs. When they'd come back from dinner, the wind was really whipping hard. The forecast called for heavy rain, and it was a long walk and train ride for Nino to return to his apartment in the city. So, despite Captain/Ohno and Jun losing a night of freedom, Nino was invited to stay over. Now, Sho thought, if worst came to worst,  he could pull rank and get him to open the shop… but he really didn’t anticipate much difficulty getting back to sleep.

Sho didn’t remember when exactly he did fall asleep again, but suddenly he was jerked away by the shrill beeping of the fire alarm. Sho blinked and practically tumbled out of bed, feet caught in the sheets, as he was horrified to realize he could also smell smoke. Only stopping to pull on pajama bottoms, Sho used his discarded tee shirt to turn the knob on the door. It wasn’t hot yet, but there was definitely dark smoke climbing up the ceiling of the stairwell.

And Sho would be lying if he said there wasn’t only one person on his mind.

Jumping down the last five or six steps, he landed hard on his heels and almost fell as he rounded the corner and raced toward the front of the store, where the smoke was thick and dark. The light from his phone wasn’t going to cut it, and he stopped to grab the large flashlight from the wall where it hung with the fire extinguisher. When he did run into storefront, he hunched over and swept the light back and forth as he moved.

Sho opened his mouth to call out for Jun, but before he could, a voice called out to him.

“Sho?! Sho, grab the extinguisher and get over here!” Nino yelled, sounding more authoritative than afraid.

“I got it!” She screamed back, and then choked on smoke from taking too deep a breath. He wiped where his eyes watered and ran to where Nino’s voice sounded like it came from, all the while calling out to Jun in his mind: Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

But neither he nor Captain answered.

Within seconds, Sho reached Nino and the fire. It was coming from the trademarked character section, against the wall they shared with the electronics place, and Sho lifted an arm to shield his eyes as he scanned the scene. It wasn’t good. The fire was building quickly. He wanted to spray the wall first, but there was a long rack that had caught on fire between him and his goal, and there was something else there… Something between the burning clothes rack and the wall. He had to squint to see what it was, because the heat radiating from the flames made his vision blurry, but he recognized it. No, them. And Sho’s heart stopped.


	7. Cracks

The blaze was hot. It was instant-sweat-and-singed-forearms hot. Sakurai found himself hugging his arms in close after a flame licked a little too near to his right elbow. The fire was loud, too. Sakurai could barely hear anything above the crackling and constant sound of the wall burning, and it was spreading dangerously close to the mannequins caught between it and the clothing rack that had also caught fire.

Nino was shouting something about firemen, and Sho was positive the younger man also said “mannequin” at least once, but Sho wasn’t listening. He was moving. Sho had wondered once how it felt to rush into a fire to save a person or a dog, but as he charged forward with the fire extinguisher, he learned that it doesn’t feel like anything. His brain just clicked into one gear, and that was to remove his Jun-- and Captain; he still didn’t understand the name “Ohno”-- from danger.

The fire seemed to be sparking and reaching closer and closer to his body the closer he got to the mannequins, but he wasn’t about to stop. There was also the issue of visibility. Even though the fire still hadn’t spread far, the smoke was billowing. Sakurai hadn’t realized how much smoke could come from such a localized fire, or how black it would be when polyester burned. He was shouting then too, for the mannequins to wait (he was coming!), but he really didn’t have to say anything. Jun and Captain were posed, standing upright as lifeless mannequins would-- which would have terrified Sho if he didn’t suddenly catch the conversation they were having. The fire must have been screwing with his telepathy, because it took him until he was nearly upon them before he could hear them arguing over whether or not to let Nino see them move. Sho was about a meter away, spraying the ground in front of him, when he heard something pop and crack, almost like a log in a fireplace, and his head shot up. Somehow, in the few seconds it took him to get that far, the fire had reached Jun’s pant leg, and the beautiful mannequin’s lower leg erupted in flames.

Instantly, the two dropped the facade as Jun collapsed to the floor and Ohno sank down with him. The bottom of Sho’s stomach dropped, and without thinking, he shouted, “Jun!”

And Nino might have been confused if he weren’t too busy shouting for Sho to “save them.” Sho had moved on adrenaline and the unrelenting need to find Jun… but then the fear washed over him and all the noise faded to the back of his consciousness. Jun was going to burn if Sho didn’t get in there.

Jun was going to burn.

Nino started screaming orders, telling Sho exactly where to spray, because the flames were climbing up on both of the mannequins and he was about to run through the fire himself to grab at his Ohno mannequin. Through the fire, Nino could almost believe he saw the mannequin moving on its own, and that just made him all the more desperate.

Sho was spraying Jun and Captain, or Ohno, down until they were both relatively soaked, and then he grabbed both of them up into his arms and drug them away from the flames. After pulling them almost entirely across to the other side of the store, he dropped them in a heap and returned to the blaze. He had the fire almost completely extinguished when the firemen arrived. It felt like forever since the alarm had gone off, but according to the fire chief, it had only been ten minutes.

Sho ran a disbelieving hand through his hair, eyes wide. All of that had happened in ten minutes! He couldn’t believe it. It took the crew little time to put out the remaining blaze in the costume shop, and Sho was surprised again to learn that the fire had started in the electronics store. It was too soon to tell, but they were thinking that lightning might have struck and caused a monitor, that was left on, to catch fire.

Sho knew something about that situation sounded wrong. Something in his brain was telling him that a fire in the electronics store shouldn’t have affected their store and nearly burnt up his mannequin, but he was too hyped up and preoccupied to care. Sho had never known loss-- real loss-- in his entire life, and when he’d seen Jun catch fire… Sho couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t take it.

Sakurai held Jun’s body against him, even though the height difference and Jun’s hard edges and stiff joints made it awkward. Sho didn’t care. It felt right-- and it was the first thing to feel right all evening. He didn’t want this feeling to stop, not now that he had Jun safe against him and not burning…. burning.

He had leaned down thinking to make it look like he was just picking up the fallen mannequin, but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t just stand Jun up and move away. Nino was saying something about the store being deemed safe and approved for business by the fire chief. Sho just nodded, noticing how red Nino’s eyes were, and told him to get some sleep.

Just like that too. “Get some sleep,” because after he said it, Sho was carrying Jun through the back room towards the stairs, but not before, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nino collapse next to the slightly-charred Captain--no, Ohno on the floor; the smaller man’s frame struggling as he tried to pull the mannequin to him.

When they reached the stairs and were far out of Nino’s sight, Jun’s voice, still shaken, told him, “Okay Sho, put me down.”

“No,” Sho replied, quietly but outloud.

“Wh..where are we going? Upstairs? Don’t be stupid. Let me walk,” Jun twisted in his arms, and an elbow bit into Sho’s side, but the man didn’t loosen his grip on the mannequin.

“No, Jun,” Sho told him, lifting Jun slightly higher as he readjusted his hold, “Just, let me carry you up. It’ll be faster.”

And then Sho took the stairs (nearly dropping Jun by his upper half once) two at a time, reaching the door remarkably faster than Jun would have, as if to prove his point. But there wasn’t an understandable point, at least not in Jun’s mind, for Sho surpassing the apartment’s living area to go straight to the bedroom.

There, Sho laid Jun on his single bed and stepped back, pressing his mouth into his forearm agitatedly as he watched Jun readjust his body before lifting his head so his painted eyes rested on Sakurai. Confusion radiated from the mannequin, and Sho opened his mouth before Jun could ask the obvious question as to what they were doing there.

“Does your leg hurt?” Sho blurted, “How bad is it? Let me look at it?”

“It doesn’t hurt, not anymore. You don’t have to,” Jun answered.

“It hurt before?” Sho asked, his hands now cupping his mouth and nose.

“It was really hot,” Jun replied, taking in Sho’s agitation and wondering what it meant exactly.

“Let me see it,” Sho said, no longer making it a question, moving forward, and reaching for Jun’s blackened pant leg.

“Fine, fine,” Jun said, because he really didn’t have a choice. Sho was already trying to lift the cloth away from the wooden limb.

The cloth was a cotton blend, stretchy, and the burned portion of the manufactured fabric had melted and stuck to Jun’s leg, making it difficult to peel away. What Sakurai thought he could feel, as he gently fingered Jun’s burnt shin, was a fissure. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat quickly, and shook his head. He didn’t want to think what a crack in Jun’s leg would mean. Maybe he was wrong anyway. It was too hard to tell with the pants.

“We need to take them off,” Sho said, taking a breath, “Maybe most of the burned part will come off with it when I pull it down your leg.”

“Is it really necessary?” Jun asked, sounding embarrassed.

“You let Subaru dress you everyday. Come on now,” Sho insisted, “Plus, I’ve pulled down your pants before.”

“Shut up, just-- ah!” Jun couldn’t stifle a little sound of surprise as Sho’s fingers immediately settled on his fly, working to undo the button before he even agreed to let him.

“Jeez, Sho,” Jun complained, “You could have waited a second.”

“Sorry,” Sho muttered, but he was already lifting Jun’s bottom off the bed so he could slide the pants down, leaving the undershorts. Then he pulled them down, taking the left leg completely off and the other to just below the knee, where Jun’s burn started on his right leg. Sho swallowed again and looked up at Jun’s face to see the mannequin had risen on his elbows to watch.

“Maybe you should lie back, Jun,” Sho suggested softly, “I think I’m just going to yank the pant leg down and off. See if the burned fabric comes off with it.”

“Um…” Jun sounded hesitant in Sho’s head, and Sakurai wondered if the wound did hurt him.

“Would you rather I called Subaru? Nino called him before about the fire, but he didn’t pick up. Do you want me to try him again?”

“No… I heard Nino. He tried at least eight times to get through. For Subaru to ignore Nino that much, he must be with Yasuda.”

“Well,” Sho said, slowly, “Then lie back and let me get this pant leg off you.”

Jun exhaled slowly in Sho’s mind as he laid his head down on the bed.

“Okay,” he said, after a moment, “Go.”

Sho pressed his lips together, gripped the pants tightly, and yanked. There was a horrible ripping sound as the fabric pulled away from the wood, but Sho kept the movement smooth and quick. It took him seconds to get the pant leg off, and he didn’t miss the tight hissing sound Jun made in his head.

“It does hurt. Doesn’t it, Jun?” Sho stated more than asked, dropping the ruined clothing and moving to stand closer to Jun’s face.

“Yeah,” Jun said, his voice still sounding tight, “That hurt.”

“What do I do?” Sho asked, worried, “Will it heal? Should I bandage it? Is there something I can put on it?”

“I don’t know,” Jun replied, “I don’t know. What does it look like? Is it bad?”

Sho moved back down to look at the leg properly, and he tried to keep his face blank as he saw what he’d thought he felt before: a crack. The wood was split in a jagged line from just below the knee joint to almost where the ankle joint was… and it didn’t look good. Sho didn’t know what could be done for it.

“The fire made a crack,” Sho said, softly, running his fingers gently down it, watching and listening for a reaction. Jun didn’t show any sign of discomfort, not of pain anyway.

“What!?” Jun’s voice rose, and immediately Jun was propped back up on his elbows, taking a look for himself.

“Oh shit,” Jun whispered, his voice disbelieving in Sho’s head before it turned a little panicky, “I...What do I do? It doesn’t even hurt now. How doesn’t that hurt? My leg has a huge crack in it!”

“It’s not huge,” Sho said, thinking the crack was rather thin, “And it’s only on the front of your leg. At least it isn’t so deep that it goes through the back.”

“It’s huge,” Jun repeated, “Imagine your leg was sliced open, not to mention charred, this way. I bet you’d think it was huge then.”

“Okay, okay,” Sho tried to sound soothing, using a tone he sometimes reserved for children, “Hush. It’s not that bad. It’ll be okay.”

“How will it be okay, Sho?” Jun snapped, “It’s hideous, and I have to somehow make someone lo-- I have to break the spell, and I’m already this freakish….creature. It’s impossible. With this, I’ll be stuck this way forever.”

“Wha...What are you talking about, Jun?” Sho asked bluntly, then soothed his tone, “Who cares if your leg isn’t pretty?”

Jun just made this exasperated sound and Sakurai shook his head.

“Well I don’t care,” Sho muttered.

“Of course you don’t care,” Jun replied, voice upset, “How I look is irrelevant to you. You proved that when you found out I was alive; when you were revolted until you saw what I used to look like. But how am I going to break this spell now that I’m a freak and ugly?!”

Sho’s eyes widened and he momentarily entertained the idea of shaking the mannequin, “You are beautiful Jun. Regardless of what your leg looks like.”

“Hmph,” Jun sniffed, and he turned his head away from Sho.

“Does your leg hurt when you move it?” Sakurai asked, ignoring the fact that Jun wasn’t looking at him.

“No,” Jun muttered, moving the leg in a little circle and bending the joints, “It hasn’t hurt since you pulled the pant leg off.”

“Good,” Sho replied, “Then you won't mind this.”

Jun was curious what “this” was, but he didn’t look back. Not until he felt the bed dip, and then suddenly Sho was in his line of vision, or his thighs were as the man knelt on the bed, and then his chest as Sho lied down beside him.

Jun didn't have time to react. Sho's arms were circling his waist and slipping beneath his shoulders, and then they were pulling him against Sho's chest. Jun wanted to ask what Sho was doing, why he was doing it, but he couldn't form the words. So he just let it happen, his only thought that Sho must hear how hard his heart was rattling in his chest, the shell suddenly feeling thin and brittle. Maybe the whole thing was going to crack.

"You're shaking, Jun," Sho murmured, and Jun felt his breath on his ear. He was so sensitive that night.

"Oh," Jun said stupidly, trying to stop. He didn't want to appear weak in front of Sho.

"I don't think I've ever seen you have involuntary movement before," Sho continued, and Jun could feel him smile into his hair.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Jun cringed at how wispy his telepathy sounded, even to himself.

"Maybe this will help," Sho said as he leaned back and hooked two fingers under Jun's chin.

"What will?" Jun asked, hoping Sho wasn't going to stop holding him and then wondering why he cared. . . And why Sho's body felt so good around his. It really shouldn't. It wasn’t fair.

But Sho didn't move away, instead rolling Jun onto his back so he could lean over him. Then he tilted Jun's face up, leaned down, and touched his lips to Jun's.

And Jun froze. Their lips had touched before, but this was completely different. This was gentle and slow, and the warmth that Jun initially felt became hot as Sho's lips caressed his carved ones. The heat grew and spread throughout his body, tingling in his fingertips.

"Oh!" Jun's voice rang loud in Sho's mind, and he pulled away.

"Jun?"

Jun pushed on Sho’s chest, making Sho turn beet-red as he started apologizing and fumbling to move back-- but then Jun gripped his shirt and Sakurai stilled.

Jun couldn’t grip his shirt. His fingers didn’t bend.

Sakurai’s eyes grew impossibly round as he looked down in surprise. Clenching his shirt, bunching the fabric, was a pale hand. The hand led to a slender wrist instead of a wooden joint, and Sho’s eyes followed the path of skin until it disappeared under the sleeve of Jun’s shirt. Under his eyes, Jun’s body was changing. Beneath the thin fabric, he could see the definition of Jun’s chest and shoulders changing-- becoming less rigid. The change seemed to move in ripples, and Sho was watching the skin that started to appear at Jun’s collar when he was distracted by the sudden pinching on his left arm. Jun’s other hand was gripping his upper arm, and his newly revealed nails bit into Sho’s skin, making Sho shiver.

And then, almost too quickly for Sho’s eyes to follow, the flesh on Jun’s neck continued to his jawline, then his cheeks and his ears, and when Jun’s lips transformed to become soft and lush, they immediately parted, gulping in air, and the chest beneath him rose for the first time in Sho’s memory.

Jun’s eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled, and his transformation was complete. Sho was now straddling a very beautiful and human man.

His groin tightened as he registered the sudden warmth radiating from beneath him.

“Jun?” he repeated, his voice low and husky.

The eyelids opened, and Sho’s were met with glossy dark eyes, the same from his dream, but a thousand times more compelling in real life than they were in a memory. The eyes searched his face, as if they hadn’t gotten a proper look at him until now, and then Sho’s eyes dropped as Jun’s lips parted again.

“Sho.”

Jun breathed the word, and just hearing that soft voice say his name, the sound actually reaching his ears, affected Sho more than anything he’d felt yet. He swallowed hard, realizing Jun was waiting for him to say something. To do something-- to react in some way, but Sho couldn’t stop staring.

“I’m back,” Jun finally said, and Sho knew Jun was watching his expression.

His mouth was a thousand times too dry to say anything, but Sho realized, almost too late, that he was lowering his face back down to Jun’s. He caught himself before his lips met the lips beneath them, and he searched the dark depths that appeared ebony in the lamplight for some sort of approval. Something to tell Sho to continue, because he desperately wanted to continue.

The tip of Jun’s tongue appeared between his lips and licked them, eyes never leaving Sakurai’s. Sho groaned.

No more waiting. His mouth caught Jun’s parted ones before Jun’s tongue was completely inside, chasing it back into the wet warmth.

Sho hadn’t been the type of person to kiss with his eyes open, but he just couldn’t stop looking at Jun. Even as Jun’s closed, Sho didn’t want to miss a single expression… each one was so seductive and beautiful and alive. Their hands now, too, were searching each other. Learning how the other felt beneath their fingertips, because neither had actually felt the other before as they were meant to be, and it was all new. Sho could feel every rib down Jun’s side, and Jun shivered when he squeezed Sho’s bicep and Sho flexed in response.

With a sigh, Sho broke away to trail kisses from the corner of Jun’s mouth to his ear, but was surprised into a groan when his lower lip was caught between Jun’s teeth. Sho was thrilled by it. His entire body felt electric, ready to ignite, and when Jun started pressing hot kisses into Sho’s throat, he couldn’t help rocking his hips down into him.

Jun gasped, and his head fell back at the rush of blood to his groin. Leaving his pale neck exposed like that was too tempting an invitation for Sho to refuse, and he licked Jun’s pulse gently before sucking a searing bruise right into the tender flesh.

Jun’s skin was so hot, now damp, to his lips as he ravaged the pale neck, and amidst small sounds of approval escaping Jun’s lips, Sho had the sudden feeling that marking such perfect skin must be some kind of sin, and he really shouldn’t be doing it, but he also couldn’t seem to stop. Jun had always been like some sort of drug to him, constantly drawing him in, and now Sho couldn’t escape. He was addicted to the flavor, and the incredible high he felt with every sigh or moan that escaped Jun’s lips.

And really, those moans were still far too shallow. Jun kept tamping them down; biting them back… and Sho couldn’t allow that. Not when he was finally hearing Jun’s voice aloud.

They kissed again, with Sho perhaps more commanding, but Jun was sleek and quick, and every muscle in his body seemed to arch up against Sho whenever Sho flicked his tongue one way or teased his fingers in a sensitive place.

It wasn’t long before articles of clothing made their way off the two men’s hips and onto the floor. They had been half-naked already, so when they were peeling each other’s layers off, and Sho reached for Jun’s boxers, it was as if a very last layer was about to be lifted, and there was a bit of trepidation on Jun’s part. This was the last bit of shell- -the last bit of anything separating him from Sho. Was it really okay to let go?

The blood was pounding in his head. Sho fingers had stilled on the elastic waistband, and his eyes were fixed on Jun’s. Jun had to want this. Jun had to want it as much as he did, or Sho would stop there. He’d have to be satisfied with what he’d be given already, because he truly wanted Jun to want him as much as he wanted him… and he wanted it to be beautiful for Jun, the way Jun was beautiful to him. Rushing things would ruin everything.

Jun’s eyes were so expressive, so telling, now that they weren’t painted on wood, and Sho saw the heat flicker into self-consciousness as Sho continued to hesitate, which wasn’t what Sho was looking for at all, so he leaned into the pale man and explained, “Tell me to continue, Jun. Tell me to go on, and that you want to do this.”

Realization lightened Jun’s expression, Sakurai could read his face so easily, and Jun nodded once before lifting his head to capture Sho’s lips and start wiggling out of his boxers. Jun wanted Sho to realize exactly what it was he wanted.

WIthin seconds, their bodies were pressed naked to one another. The kisses heated, even more so than they were before. Now there was the feeling that this was only the precursor; that there was more to come. Jun’s hands, with their feather-light touches to his back and sides, squeezed gently on his ass, and Sho groaned.

Long, deft fingers ghosted over his length, surprising the air from his lungs, and Sho had to grit his teeth as they strengthened their grip, a fingertip easing over the slit.

Sho’s arm was shaking as he pushed himself up and leaned towards the drawer to scramble through the contents, trying awkwardly to reach what was stashed at the back without moving away from Jun. He almost sighed in relief as he felt the strip of packets, and behind, a small bottle. He grabbed them quickly, and looked back down at Jun.

The other man’s liquid eyes captured his, and Sho found himself staring again, almost lost.

Silently, slowly, Sho repositioned him and ran careful fingers along Jun’s thighs. He teased, tickling gently, and watched the anticipation build in the man lying before him. He waited until Jun was trembling with every touch before he slicked his fingers and ran the tip of his index finger around the rim of Jun’s entrance.

Jun’s breath hitched, his hole spasming, and Sho told him to relax without words, instead running a reassuring hand up and down Jun’s inner thigh, his legs now drawn back. Jun exhaled, and Sho pressed inside. Just one finger, but as Jun’s breath grew more ragged, Sho added a second finger and stretched the two apart, earning a tight hiss from Jun.

“Slow,” the pale man, now flushed in blotches on his cheeks and chest, breathed, “It’s been... a... long time.”

Sho didn’t consider himself a particularly talented man, but there were a few things he knew he was very good at, and activities in the bedroom were near the top of the list. Sho bent his fingers slightly and dragged them across the bundle of nerves inside Jun just as he wrapped his other hand in a slick grip around Jun’s softening length, feeling the man stiffen almost immediately as Jun’s lips parted in a silent cry.

Sho worked him open, coaxing Jun’s body to be ready for him, and when Jun started moving his hips in time with the drag of Sho’s fingers, having gone from two to three, Sho pulled back. Jun made a small sound of protest, low and ragged, until he realized what was happening and swallowed hard.

Rising over Jun, Sho kissed him hard before lining himself up and easing in. He didn’t enter far, just enough to let Jun adjust, and Jun tensed for a moment before forcing his muscles to loosen. Sho gave him more time, moving only very slightly, captivated by the tightening of Jun’s abdominals and how defined they were before they’d relaxed. But he couldn’t hold back forever, and as Jun exhaled, Sho slid deeper in, back out halfway, and then in.

“Ah, Sho. It burns,” Jun gasped and Sho stilled.

Sakurai swallowed hard before asking, “Do you want to stop?”

Jun let his eyes flicker shut, and he lifted his hips slightly, tentatively, before shaking his head, “No, go on.”

Sho took Jun’s hand-- his wonderfully warm and soft hand-- and brought it to his mouth to kiss. He wanted to lean forward and take Jun’s lips again, but he waited until the other was more comfortable. Once Jun wasn’t trembling with every thrust, and started moving his hips in time with the rhythm, Sho allowed himself to reclaim Jun’s lips. The thrusting grew more frenzied, more desperate, and Sho moaned into Jun’s mouth. The sound echoed off the walls, and Jun clenched and writhed deliciously beneath him. They were so close. Sho fell forward, swollen lips kissing the hollow of Jun’s neck. Jun cried out, so tight, and then they were coming and falling, and everything went black as Sho collapsed on top of Jun.

They lied there like that, in a puddle of warmth and satisfaction, until Jun felt his recently-returned human body growing numb and was eager to inspect himself-- or really, to look at his left wrist, but his arm was pinned beneath Sho’s body. Sho had melted into deadweight on top of him, and Jun had to exercise his own strength to free his limb, winning a whine from Sho.

The sound was cut short by a sharp intake-of air by Jun, and Sho lifted his fluffy head to see why Jun sounded so distressed suddenly. He was puzzled when he realized that Jun was staring avidly at the underside of his left forearm.

“What’s wrong with your arm? Oh my god your leg. We forgot to check your leg,” Sho said, scrambling up to look at Jun’s shin. He paused though.

“My day has started.”

Sho paused, confused by Jun’s soft, deflated tone. He sounded so sad, and Sho didn’t understand.

“Look,” Jun twisted his arm so Sho could see the underside of his wrist. There was an odd blue circle, like a tattoo, staining the pale skin.

“What is…?”

“It measures my 24-hours,” Jun said curtly, but Sho heard his voice waiver at the end.

"Oh..." Sho felt his heart sink, too. He hadn't even realized that he'd assumed Jun's spell was broken, but now that they knew it wasn't, he felt disappointed... and the disappointment dissolved into fear as he realized that he was going to lose the physical warmth of the man beneath him-- the smile, the liquid brown eyes, the flushed skin...the taste-- he was going to lose all of that in a day if he couldn't break the spell.

Jun almost yelped as Sakurai came crashing back down upon him, momentarily forgetting that his heart felt like it had a thousand little cracks spreading across it. Jun had been so sure that Sakurai felt something more than just lust for him... but Jun had to guess that it wasn't love. He wouldn't have the mark on his arm if Sho loved him...right? Love would break the spell-- that's what he'd always been told. He had to find the one whose true-love for him had been borrowed to save Jun's life.

Why couldn't that person be Sho? Jun looked at his wrist again, just to make sure it was there... and it was. The blue moon that would phase away until nothing was left. With the death of the mark, so came Jun's life as a Mannequin....

"Don't worry, Jun," Sho smiled into Jun's neck, his weight heavy on him but Jun didn't mind at all then, "We'll break the spell. Together."

"Together," Jun repeated.

"I promise," Sho added.

Jun frowned, but Sho didn't see it. He did hear, though, when Jun whispered that he shouldn't make promises he cannot keep.

"Don't be sad now," Sho said quietly.

"I know, I know," Jun sighed and dropped a kiss on Sakurai, just because it felt right, "I don't have time to waste. Tell me something good."

"You were amazing, you know," Sho said, a little too quickly.

"In bed?" Jun asked and Sho nodded.

“The man of your dreams?” Jun continued, an attempt at lightness that sounded almost bitter.

“No….” Sakurai replied, and Jun was surprised.

“What?”

“Well, yes, but… You’re more than that. Maybe you’ve changed, or maybe I just didn’t get a good enough glimpse of you… but you feel different. You look different. You are so much more than that person was.”

“Oh”

“I like you better."

"Right in that moment, Jun wanted to tell Sho that he loved him. He wanted to tell him as the feeling just washed over him and seeped into his skin, but… he was afraid. The stakes were too high. To be rejected now, with the blue timebomb marking his skin… he was afraid to take the risk. Jun wanted to wait a few more hours and see what they would bring.

Downstairs, Ninomiya was still awake. Thoughts of that night, with all the fear and adrenaline, as well as thoughts of other nights, normal ones that he spent alone in his apartment, plagued him.

Nino had felt like he was telling a lie before, after they'd left Aiba at dinner, when he agreed that he couldn’t make it to the train station in the storm. He’d stepped out into the rain, and even as it pelted him, he knew he could make it. He knew he’d been in worse. The wind was howling, and his body arched forward with the force, but he wasn’t so slight that he’d actually blow away. He knew he should just leave, and he knew Sho knew it too.

But instead, Sho had told the lie for him. Nino didn’t have to do it. Sho just started saying it was too dangerous, and Nino had agreed-- and he didn’t even know why. He knew he couldn’t shake the pull this doppelganger mannequin had on him… But what was Sho lying for?

Did he know?

The confusion on his face as Nino swallowed, his small cheeks puffing slightly with the movement made Sakurai think for a moment that Jun was right. Nino was sort of cute… but only when he was vulnerable and confused like this. What Nino didn't understand, as he sat awake, was that Sakurai had been able to read the questions on Nino’s face just as easily as if he’d been listening to the younger man’s thoughts.

“You’ll have to sleep on a futon somewhere down here, though,” Sho had added then, deciding that if he was going to lie, he might as well take it as far as it could go, “There’s really not enough room upstairs for you.

Since the fire had been put out, Nino couldn’t convince himself to crawl back under the cover of the futon, but was instead curled against the mannequin he had propped up.

“Oh Ohno,” Nino whispered into the hard, cold chest that was solid like he remembered it, from all those years ago, except it was too solid this time. It was too much, just like working there. It was fundamentally wrong, no matter how he looked at it, and completely foolish, but it also felt right. Selling freakishly well-made costumes to snot-nosed kids and giggling teenagers with Aiba and Sho somehow felt more right than he’d felt since he’d left the theater...

And he knew nothing would ever feel that “right” again…. Maybe he was going insane? Pressing ever closer to the mannequin, as if he could absorb the wooden form into himself to carry in his heart, he whispered again that he wanted Ohno. He’d always want him. He’d always love him. He’d always need him.

Please come back. Please. Please.

“I’m alone here without you… and I’ve been alone for so long Oh-chan,” Nino whispered, words catching and shivering from his lips as his body shivered against the cold mannequin.


	8. Reunions

Subaru was walking faster and faster down an alley in the city. It was one of many ways he knew to get from this world to the next, and it was one of a few ways that would take him specifically to Yasu. Faster, faster, faster--not quite a run, he was still walking, but the alley seemed to speed up along with him until the hard concrete and brick melted and faded into blue. Hard lines and rough edges became soft skies above and cool pools at his feet. Splish, splish, splash; Subaru’s feet kicked up clear blue water as he walked onward. Just beneath the surface was the outline of a path, but Subaru didn’t need to look down to know it was there. His feet had walked this path enough times to know where they were going… Not that this was home. This was decidedly Yasu’s home. It was where Yasuda could be at peace while his energy was drained. Subaru didn’t have anywhere in the spirit realm that felt like home to him. Not really. His mother was of yosei origin, like Yasu, but his father had been a mortal man and that’s the world he’d always lived in. An Onmyoji, Subaru’s father had practiced divination and magic, specializing in conjuring Shikigami to do his bidding in the form of tiny, paper manikins. Subaru didn’t like conjuring Shikigami himself, but he could still avidly remember the sharp-edged paper men, or fleet of carefully-folded birds, his father would send to spy on neighboring enemies or to track soldiers through the mountains, undetected.

The path was suddenly winding through the water, instead of straight, and archways rose up from the clear depths to shade the path. Subaru picked up his pace, kicking up water, until he reached a door, and pulled it open. The room was dim, but he knew where he was going. With long strides, he pushed aside a sliding door and knelt at the side of a futon… and froze. No matter how many years had passed, no matter how long they’d been together in contrast to the recent years they’d spent mostly apart, the heightened tension and rapid beating of his heart would never cease. Returning to Yasu after being away would always affect him. He’d never lose the excited anticipation.

Yasu was sleeping. Of course he was sleeping. He was fine. Of course he was fine. Why was he repeating things? Subaru should have known better than to rush out there, fearing the worst would get to Yasu before he could… But, even as he looked down at his resting lover, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.

Ripping off the gloves he’d still been wearing, he knelt in the shallow water that continued into the house and touched Yasu’s cheek. Immediately, the smaller man’s eyelids lifted, eyes flashing blue before fading into a dark brown.

“Subaru,” Yasu gasped, sleep still clinging to the soft, flushed apples of his cheeks, “Why are you here?”

Subaru pressed his lips together in mock dismay, “Is that really the first thing you want to say to me?”

“I missed you?” Yasu tried, rubbing one eye.

“That’s better.”

“....But, why are you here?” Yasu continued, slowly becoming more aware as he woke fully, “Is something wrong with the mannequins? It’s your duty to protect them because… because I can’t.”

“Hey, nothing’s wrong with them,” Subaru ruffled a hand through Yasu’s bedhead, “I’m more worried about your yumemi friend-- that dreamwalker. His Guardian told me he wasn’t looking so hot these days, and that he wasn’t walking clearly through as many dreams… And that brings me to what you showed Massu, buddy. I saw that glimpse of shadowy Tegoshi in the background. He looked like shit.”

Worse than shit, Subaru thought, Tegoshi looked as close to scared as Subaru had ever seen him. And that was not good. In fact, that was very, very bad.

“Yeah,” Yasu mumbled, “He appeared that way in my dreams...After weeks of not seeing him, there was a very dark corner of my dream that grew increasingly darker. When I pursued it, I saw him. Just like that. I didn’t want to tell Masuda-- I didn’t know how to tell Masuda. I was unable to wake for him, and I couldn’t let him see Tegoshi like that. You know how they are. So I sealed that portion of the dream from Massu in the memory to give to you.”

“Yeah, well… It got me here.”

Subaru shared a look with Yasuda, and even without telepathy, he knew they were both thinking of the same thing. Without a doubt, Yasu was also thinking of the night the two of them had summoned Tegoshi Yuya to help them protect the mannequins.

Ohno had been new-- like brand-spanking “just created tonight” new, and Yasu had been completely and totally drained. And, he’d been crying. Subaru will never forget that. Yasu had been crying and crying and crying because he believed Ohno’s death was his fault. It was his fault for taking an interest in Ohno Satoshi, who had been a premier dancer of a prestigious troupe in Tokyo at the time. It was his fault for taking Jun, on his One Day, to see the proclaimed dancer perform. It was his fault for leading the monster to Ohno, and it was his fault she’d try to steal his soul.

That monster, which they immediately recognized as a particularly powerful and malicious yurei, was more than Subaru with a drained Yasu and two vulnerable Mannequins could even attempt to handle. So Yasu called upon the first person he could think of.

Tegoshi was a century or two younger than Yasu, but as the only child of his aunt, they were bonded by more than magic. Despite the younger’s penchant for all things rose-tinted, they were both from the Blue line of yosei, which meant they possessed powerful life binding magic. Yasu had called on Tegoshi especially for this reason.

He had known that Tegoshi could trap the yurei and, then, Yasu had fully believed Tegoshi would just exorcise it . . . but this had proven more complicated than anyone had anticipated. The younger yosei had cast the kekkai to trap the yurei, using an elaborate spell that only someone of his stature could conjure, but then it didn’t go as planned. The yurei was so fierce, and Tegoshi had to constantly bolster the kekkai with his power to keep her contained. Because he was preoccupied with that, the first exorcism spell he hit her with failed. Which was a shock to all, Subaru remembered, but especially to Massu. Subaru had been standing near the Guardian, having taking a liking to the guy who had once been as mortal as well, and he’d heard Massu mutter under his breath. When no one else had heard it, Subaru had heard Massu say, “He can’t fail… I’ve never seen a spell of his fail before.”

And that’s when Subaru had known this wasn’t going to be easy, and the yurei wasn’t going to be taken care of quickly.

Which was mind boggling, because the kekkai Tegoshi had created was one of the most impressive Subaru had ever seen. He’d never forget the feeling it gave off as he approached it; the air practically hummed. The kekkai, a barrier that trapped the monster inside, wasn’t something you were generally able to feel until you hit it. Not in Subaru’s experience with the palisade spell, but Tegoshi wasn’t your average yosei, and this one had been something special. The kekkai hadn’t just trapped the yurei. No, Tegoshi had created it so that, once inside, you were in a completely different dimension.

That took a lot of strength, and it was beyond Subaru’s comprehension that any creature originating from the human world could fight against it… but the deranged spirit was not just a yurei of human origins-- and that had been a bitch to find out. The thing had somehow traversed from the spirit world and possessed an immeasurable strength of its own. It wasn’t just the deranged spirit of a dead man. No, it was the deranged spirit of something of the spirit realm. It was something that had never walked among men-- but was more than willing to suck their souls from their hearts when it found those it deemed perfect. The thing had a penchant for perfection, apparently… and grew quite keen on devouring Tegoshi as well. Which the blue yosei had zero intentions of allowing. But, this revelation meant that what he had created to briefly trap the monster and exorcise it became a long-term prison cell. Tegoshi wanted to exorcise it-- he tried to perform the exorcism many times, but too much of his power was put into the kekkai. He couldn’t do both, not when the yurei was so powerful.

And Tegoshi, being hard-headed and loathe to admit defeat, took far too long to tell them this. He had refused to relent, and by the time the Elders were informed of his struggles, Tegoshi’s life-force was so interwoven into the kekkai, that the ancient yosei were afraid their intervention could cause his power to discharge and potentially destroy him and everything else the eye could see.

But, as Subaru kept reminding himself, they all still believed Tegoshi was eventually going to overwhelm the yurei. The extent of his powers were unknown-- they were supposed to be unsurmountable. Tegoshi Yuya was an heir to the Elder Throne. It was written in every text of the seven realms. So, even though he was struggling to perform the exorcism, the elders fully believed that a yosei with a power of his magnitude would eventually be able to overcome the monstrous yurei and exorcise her.

But he still hadn’t, and while other troubles over the years had preoccupied the elders’ minds, the struggle between the yurei and Tegoshi only seemed to weigh upon Yasuda, Subaru, and Tegoshi’s temple Guardian, Masuda Takahisa. Neither Jun nor Ohno were made aware of her. All either of them remembered was pain, and even that Yasuda wished he could steal from their memories.

So there they were, after a decade of Tegoshi trying to exorcise the yurei, he struggled to maintain the power to contain it. The thing was poisoning him, Yasu and Subaru had seen that in the dream. If he didn’t exorcise her  soon….

"He can't do it, can he?" Subaru said softly, and Yasu shook his head.

"I don't think so..." the yosei sighed.

"But he was so strong--"

"It isn’t his strength that’s the problem, although that is obviously wasting away,” Yasuda sighed again, “ It’s the method. He’s attacking this wrong… It must not be what we think it is.”

“I saw it,” Subaru countered, shaking his head, “I saw the way it kills; the way it feeds. It’s yurei.”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. It’s something else…” Yasuda said, frustrated, "Yuya has tried to tell me, in my dreams, but neither of us were lucid enough to communicate well.”

“Well what the hell is it, then? We don’t know? Tegoshi had so much power…”

“And he's containing it. That's more than even two of me could do."

"Don't sell yourself sh--" Subaru started, but Yasu yelped in surprise and Subaru paused to look at him, "What?"

"It's Jun."

"What about Jun?"

"He's turned."

"No, he hasn't. He can't. Not without you, not unless..." Subaru reached out and took Yasu's arm and turned it to expose the underside of his forearm. Two blue circles remained.

"He's still a mannequin," Subaru muttered, excitement dying on his tongue. The blue marks mirrored the one both Jun and Ohno had on their skin when human.

"Yeah, but I'm telling you. His One Day has started," Yasu insisted.

Subaru felt the tension rising in Yasuda, "Okay, so how? How do you know this?"

Yasu shot him a pointed look.

"Nevermind," Subaru amended, "What does this mean?"

"It means some other magic was present. Something else lended him the power to turn human...and then, if he was provoked or emotional enough, he could have changed on his own."

Subaru clicked his tongue, "Well, I know one person who almost definitely provoked him, but I don't know where the magic could have come from, unless you think Masaki...?"

"No, he doesn't have that sort of strength."

"Well, what the hell does?" Subaru asked, but then his eyes grew wide and his mouth opened a little, "No. You don't think--"

Yasuda stood up and started grabbing some things around the room, including pants, "We're going to Tegoshi. Now. Let's go."

Subaru started towards the door, but Yasu shook his head and said softly, "We don't have time for that. Come here."

Subaru sighed and went over to his lover. Yasu took both of Subaru's hands, leaned his forehead against him, and with a pop and a flash of blue, the room was empty. They were gone.

 

The blue flashed again as they reappeared, momentarily lighting up a space shrouded in darkness. Subaru, cursing, raised his palms and from his hands little flickers of red shot out and caught fire in the cold wicks and embers that should have been lit around them. The fact that the room was dark was a terrible sign.

As the light grew, dark puddles could be seen in various places on the floor of the seemingly deserted temple. Appearing black in the red haze from Subaru's flames, the Guardian knelt next to the closest wet spot by his feet.

"It's blood," Subaru mumured.

"Masuda!" Yasu's voice cried out, cutting through the silence.

"Shh, Sho," Subaru stood in front of Yasuda, taking the stance of a Guardian. But Yasu was having none of it. Eyes flashing blue again, he took off down a hallway with Subaru on his heels, still shouting for Masuda. The hallway opened up into an impossibly large room. Subaru cast more light from his palms, some flames just hovering around the open space, but they were not enough to light the room completely. Something was keeping the temple dark.

"Oh god, look at all the blood," Yasuda grimaced and Subaru's face grew stern. The further they moved into the room, the more they could see that the entire place was practically splattered in blood. For a temple that was kept by a single Guardian and a blue yosei, this couldn't be good.

"We need to find them. Subaru, we need to find them!" Yasuda started to sound desperate, and Subaru conjured a larger flame. It was almost too hot for him to handle, but he dealt with it as they searched the room. Splintered furniture was strewn about, something that looked like a tattered futon was heaped against a wall, and a beam from the ceiling had split and  collapsed to the floor in a V. Yasu, despite being weak, managed to jump over it.

"Shota?"

Yasuda's head snapped to look in the direction that the weak voice had come from, and Subaru sent a floating flame over. At first, they didn't see anyone. Then, as the light hovered further, there was what appeared to be a mound of bloodsoaked clothes and carnage, but then it shivered and Subaru realized he saw a hand and then an arm, and Oh God, were those eyes? Eyes that were looking back at him, fringed by blood-matted, white-blonde hair.

"Tegoshi?!" Subaru gasped.

Yasuda went over and knelt by his cousin, "Oh Yuya, what happened? Where's Masuda?"

"Where's the yurei?" Subaru added, pointedly.

"The kekkai... It broke," Tegoshi's voice was soft; distant. Subaru brought the flame closer to Tegoshi, and through the blood, Subaru saw something that made the bile rise in his throat.

"Ask him..."Subaru tried, but failed and clenched his jaw, "Ask him what he's holding."

Yasu had been focused on his cousin's face, but in the light, he followed Subaru's gaze to what Tegoshi was cradling against his chest.

"Oh..Oh Tegoshi," Yasu whispered, "What have you done?”

 

“Talk to me.”

Sho readjusted his arm to look at the pale man nestled against him,  “Okay--”

“Or ask me something,” Jun corrected, “Give me something to talk about.”

Sho’s mind almost blanked, but then he thought of something he’d been wondering about. It was probably a touchy subject, but he was blurting the question before he could think better of it.

“What happened between Nino and Ohno? I mean, before Ohno became a mannequin. It’s obvious they knew each other, but something didn’t work out. What happened?”

Jun was quiet for a few moments, but then he sighed, “I’m not sure, exactly… but I have a pretty good idea. Are you sure you want to know?”

“If you want…” Sho mumbled, content to let it go if it made Jun uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It isn’t that Ohno wanted it kept a secret as much as he doesn’t like to talk about himself or his past.”

“Oh...Really?”

“Yeah,” Jun spoke into Sho’s chest, “He hardly spoke at all when he came… Subaru said he wasn’t the type of person to express himself through words, really. But when he became a mannequin…”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Sho finished.

“He went berserk one night,” Jun whispered, “He apparently would relieve his stress or emotions through dance and art-- he could draw really well, Subaru said so… but I’ve never seen any of his work. Ohno doesn’t want it in the shop. Anyway, under the spell… he can’t do any of those things. He lasted, for a while… But then he was knocking everything over, breaking glass...After that, Ohno spoke to me more.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Anyway, that’s not the story here. What you want to know is about Nino...”

 

Ninomiya Kazunari, as he was being discussed upstairs in hushed tones by new lovers in bed, was asleep on the floor of the shop. The futon he’d slept on earlier was only a few meters away, his blanket strewn on the floor beside it where he’d thrown it away as he’d run to the fire. Instead of returning to it for the night, his head lay on the hard, wooden chest of a mannequin that bore a likeness to the man who haunted his days and possessed his nights. He had never felt so desperate to save an inanimate object in his life, not even when he’d dropped his DS in the sink in the men’s room, and now that the Ohno lifesize doll hadn’t burned, he couldn’t help but collapse in sleep on top of it. He was so dead to the world that he didn’t stir, not even a twitch of a muscle, when a soft blue light floated from where his chest was pressed against Ohno’s-- where his heart would be-- and  grew around him. It was faint at first, but then it became stronger-- and brighter. It encircled him first, lifting the ends of his hair as if by static, and then grew to surround Ohno. As it surrounded them both, there was a sizzle-- an air of electricity-- and the color went from blue to gold. The yellow light drew in close to the Ohno mannequin, and fitted itself to the wooden frame. Ohno himself was almost frightened, but the light felt familiar. As it etched away at his wooden shell, it felt more and more like the soft touch of small, chubby hands, and he was not afraid. Little by little, Nino’s yellow light dissolved the shell until nothing was left but a human man. A human man with a slim figure huddled against him, his unshielded body heat almost burning into Ohno through the thin shirt he wore.

This magic was not like the magic that had freed Matsumoto Jun from his shell upstairs. This magic was much more powerful. It came from within Ninomiya’s heart...and with Ohno’s wooden form, the blue circle on his arm disappeared from sight.

… Never to return.

Ohno’s lips parted, and for the first time in ten years, he was able to say Nino’s name aloud… but Nino did not stir. Which Ohno found strange, and  he jostled the younger man nestled against him. Nino had always been a light sleeper-- the years he’d allowed the man to stay in his apartment with him (purely as an instructor helping a student. Nothing more), had taught him how easily Nino could be woken… But here, the thin man would not wake. And Ohno, still surrounded by the soft golden glow, felt himself growing more and more lethargic as well. In the end, he held Nino against him as he succumbed to sleep, desperate for the feel of the other man beneath his hands; against his flesh.

Nino woke up to warmth. He was surrounded by it. Enveloped in it, and he instinctively snuggled closer to it. Sleep still fogged his mind, so he didn’t take the time to wonder why or how when he’d been so cold when he closed his eyes. . . no, Nino was content to just melt into that warmth.

His eyes felt a thousand times too heavy to open, but his lips parted to breathe in the warmth they were pressed against, and as he nosed further into it, he caught a scent that had been lurking at the back of his mind for years and years...heady, a little spicy, masculine--

Nino’s eyes popped open and he was pushing his palms against the--what was he against? A chest. It was a chest, and it wasn’t just any chest. It was a chest he’d seen carved from wood and many, many times in his dreams..

But he wasn’t dreaming. Was he?

He pushed back far enough to look down at the person beneath him, whose arms were slipping from around his shoulder blades until he felt the pressure of fingers gripping his back. But that didn’t faze him. That meant almost nothing compared to what was beneath him.

Beneath him-- not wooden, not painted, not cold...not dead-- was Ohno.

The rush of emotions that ran through his body was incomparable to any feeling he’d ever known, except to say it was overwhelming and stole the breath from his lungs. Ohno was sleeping, and it was like looking at a memory...except this was real, and different, because Ohno’s hands were holding him, even in sleep, to keep him from getting away.

As if Nino was precious.

But, heart racing, Nino shook his head-- almost violently-- and pulled himself free. When he pushed himself up to stand, Ohno's sleepy eyes flickered open and settled warmly on his. The way they scanned his face; roamed his body... Nino couldn't believe what he was seeing. It couldn't be real. He couldn't be real. The tangible warmth of Ohno still lingered on his skin.... but how? It wasn't possible. . . His Ohno Satoshi was dead.

He was going to throw up. He was going to cry. Nino gulped, eyes bulging as they fixed upon the man on the floor in front of him. He was going cry and throw up.

Flashes of that memory crossed his mind. He’d been ten years younger then-- making him just a little over ten years younger than Ohno at the time...although the person on the floor didn’t appear to have aged a day.

The police had called him-- he was the emergency contact on Ohno's phone. They said Ohno Satoshi was attacked. Robbed. Stabbed to death, then burned. It was a horrific way to die. Nino had given up dancing; the theater-- he'd given up everything that had ever reminded him of Ohno. The dancer who had taken him in, taught him, rejected him, and had gotten himself killed. THAT was real. What was this?

“You! You...” Nino gasped, staring impossibly at Ohno. He froze on the spot, just staring, as if movement would break this moment and the vision would disappear-- because this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t happening, but oh God... if he didn’t move, could this impossible moment last forever?  Nino’s bottom lip started to quiver and he bit down on it, hard. His eyes started to burn and blur, and then Ohno moved.

“Kazu,” Ohno rasped, his voice still raw from disuse, and he took the few steps that separated them. He brushed his thumb over Nino’s mouth. The lip was white with the force of the slim man’s teeth. Ohno repeated his name, stroking his lips softly again, and Nino released it to choke on tears.

“Is it you? Are you really here?” Nino whispered, broken, “How? Or am I dreaming? Am I dead? Satoshi, am I dead?”

“Oh no, Kazu. No,” Ohno’s arms dropped to wrap around Nino and pull him close, “We’re living.”

And Ohno was crying now too, because he hadn’t realized how long he'd been waiting for this moment he never thought he could have. He thought he’d lost his chance. He thought he was stuck in an  eternal purgatory of memories... but here was Nino, slim and warm in his arms. The edges of his bones pressed into Ohno, and Ohno just squeezed harder. As if he could absorb Nino into himself and become one with him forever. To never let go.

Ah, to become one with Nino.

“I love you,” Nino gasped, “I’m sorry. I ca-can’t stop. I’ll love you forever.”

Ohno stepped back, and Nino sobbed a little at the loss. Meeting Nino’s eyes, Ohno stared a quiet second, taking in all of Nino, before taking two quick steps forward to pull Nino flush against him. Ten years ago, he had known-- he had always known, although he’d vehemently denied it-- that he’d wanted the younger man, but he had rejected Nino’s confession. Nino had seemed so young then, it wouldn’t have been right, and Ohno had been positive that Nino’s love was nothing more than infatuation… There were so many reasons to turn Nino away then, but now he knew better, and that skinny boy, while still quite slim and youthful in appearance, was undeniably a man now.

And Ohno wasn’t going to reject him ever again. The ability to move his lips-- to taste, to speak, to breathe and take in air-- still felt so unnatural to Ohno who had spent months upon months unable to any of those things, but when he exhaled a shaky breath and pressed his mouth to Nino’s, he found there were some things that lack of practice couldn’t destroy. This kiss, as Nino’s slim lips pressed back against his, was perfect. In fact, as far as Ohno was concerned, it was the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses.

And the level of perfection only heightened as Nino’s lips parted beneath his and Ohno received his chance to taste the sweetness Nino’s often bitterly caustic tongue concealed-- and Nino’s tongue was anything but sharp that night. No, as it stroked hesitantly against his, Ohno felt nothing but electric heat spread through his body...and head decidedly south.

Nino’s held his breath in his chest as Ohno pressed him back against the wall, holding him there with the one hand while the other skimmed down the front of his shirt. The kissing continued, with Ohno perhaps just more zealous in his apparent need to slowly devour Nino than actually leading it, but that was more than okay for Nino, who was yet shell-shocked and still  somewhat being taken along for the ride.

But he did protest when Ohno tried to pull them back to the floor again.

“Ohno, Ohno,” he mumbled, and when Ohno looked, Nino pointed to the abandoned futon. The older of the two nodded once before taking Nino by the hand and leading him over to it.

On the futon, Nino somehow found himself lying on his back as Ohno hovered above him… and while the kisses were hot and sweet, he shivered when he felt fingertips trace the top of his collar bone peeking out from the collar of his shirt, and he practically jumped when those fingers gripped the hem of the tee and started dragging the cloth upwards.

“Nnn,” the slim man muttered, “Ohno…”

“Take it off Nino,” Ohno responded, his voice muffled by his lips being pressed again to Nino’s.

“If you take off yours,” Nino said, not missing a beat. He pulled off the tee and flung it aside while Ohno unbuttoned his. It was when a half naked Ohno Satoshi leaned back over him that Nino realized he didn’t feel quite as confident as he’d sounded.

But Ohno didn’t notice, he was far too preoccupied with the newly bared skin before him. It was too tempting, and he immediately went to track his fingers along  the entire length of Nino’s collarbone when the smaller man’s hand flew up to stop him.

“What is it?” Ohno whispered.

“I don’t know… Just...You don’t need to…” Nino’s hand pushed against Ohno’s, trying to move it away from his chest.

“No, Nino… let me...let me touch you,” Ohno breathed, pinning Nino’s protesting hand back down to the futon, “I always wanted to touch you.”

Nino’s eyes rounded, and his cheeks flushed red. His lips parted to say something, but for once, Nino was caught without words, and he instead chose to press his lips together and turn  his face away. Ohno understood this was Nino’s compromise, and he’d let it go...for a little bit.

Ohno’s free hand continued where it had stopped at Nino’s collarbone, tracing the prominent angle once more to the center of Nino’s pale chest before running a cool finger down the center, between his pectorals, causing Nino shiver as it passed over his heart. Because it was his right hand that was free, Ohno then lightly skimmed his fingers in that direction. With just the lightest pressure, the tips of his fingers rubbed a small circle over Nino’s nipple, and the thin man’s mouth fell open in a tight moan, almost like a breathy whine, and that was all the encouragement Ohno needed to pinch the puckering flesh.

The sound Nino made was delicious, and it sent hot spikes of lust down Ohno’s body, but it wasn’t enough. Nino was still looking away; still holding back. He was still protecting himself, and Ohno couldn’t have that.

Ohno slowly, with eyes trained on Nino’s face, leaned down and flicked his tongue over the nipple. Nino’s moan was deeper, throaty, and his hips arched upward, connecting roughly with Ohno’s groin. The contact was brief, but the hard heat Nino felt press back against him was undeniable.

Ohno wanted him. Oh god, Ohno wanted him….wanted him. Wanted.

The older man’s lips were sucking the small bud between his teeth, and Nino brought up his other hand to grip Ohno’s hair. He pulled until Ohno raised his head, licking his lips, and Nino couldn’t stop himself. He palmed Ohno’s face down as he arched his neck up to meet Ohno’s mouth in a crushing kiss that was a little more desperate, a little more honest, than he’d meant it to be, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t. Their teeth bumped, their lips bruised and caught, and it was almost harsh as their tongues stroked and teased relentlessly against the other’s-- tasting each other’s need; drinking in the lust.

Ohno broke away, and Nino’s eyes fluttered open. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them, but now he was searching Ohno’s face for clues as to what he was feeling. His eyes were deep, burning, and Nino, embarrassed to be an object of such obvious desire, flicked his gaze to Ohno’s lips instead. Swollen and parted, Nino was captivated as Ohno ran his tongue slowly over the plush lower lip before he exhaled in a huff. His eyes softened slightly and a small smile played on the reddened lips as he caught the breath Nino had stolen.

“Slow, Nino,” Ohno said softly, his voice chiding, “We should go slow.”

The teasing tone bit into Nino, injuring his pride. “Why?” Nino’s voice was low, acidic, “Do you want to stop?”

Ohno’s smile faded, and he sighed as he brought his mouth down to meet Nino’s again. The kiss was soft and brief, but consoling. He then moved to press butterfly kisses along Nino’s jaw before lowering his entire body-- all of his weight and heat resting on Nino-- and tucking his face into the hollow of Nino’s neck.

They couldn’t be closer than they were then, except for their unfortunate clothed lower halves, and Nino couldn’t escape the way Ohno’s body shivered with need against his. Nino was reminded of Ohno’s restraint--his complete control over his body-- and he felt how tightly coiled that restraint was within Ohno’s muscled torso.

“I never want to stop, Nino,” Ohno breathed.

“...okay,” Nino shuddered, his erection uncomfortably trapped in his jeans beneath Ohno’s heat and weight. He wanted so badly to just rub himself up against it, but he didn’t.

So Ohno did. Ohno ground his hips down in a tortuously slow, circular motion that felt like a dance, and all Nino had to do was follow his lead. Time slowed as they mouthed exposed skin, licking away sweat; pressing kisses that dragged bruised lips across smooth skin. Discovering pulse points, sensitive places, and scars neither remembered he had.

But the jeans were harsh on Nino, constraining and rough, and he couldn’t help a small whine of discomfort.

Ohno, never missing a beat, was off him in a second. The cold struck Nino suddenly, and he immediately chased the warmth, thin arms reaching, but Ohno was moving to undo Nino’s fly-- and Nino froze as he watched the slender fingers pause at the button.

“Can I?” Ohno asked, even though he knew the answer, and Nino nodded.

Deftly, Ohno had the fly open and was tugging at the waist of the pants. Nino immediately raised his hips, allowing Ohno to pull the pants down easily. Next were the briefs, and all it took was a meeting of their eyes before Ohno pulled those off too, exposing all of Nino.

And it was a big deal, this complete nakedness, and Nino felt emotion well up around his eyes, threatening to spill over, which would be horrific because Nino didn’t feel remotely like crying, but this was so much. He’d offered himself to Ohno before, and he’d been rejected. He knew it wouldn’t happen again, but that fear was there. It made his heartbeat catch uncomfortably, and he didn’t breathe while he waited for Ohno’s reaction.

“Oh,” the older man whispered, and Nino looked at him, “Oh...”

Ohno rocked back on his heels, just staring at Nino-- sharp eyes taking in every slim angle and  imperfection. His hot gaze dropped to Nino’s length, and Nino watched, squirming under the scrutiny, as Ohno licked his lips.

“Ohno?”

But Ohno didn’t answer. He was too interested in taking Nino into his hand at the base. After wrapping his fingers loosely around, he slid them upwards and back down again. Nino bit his lip, groaning in his throat, but then the wet heat of Ohno’s mouth was on him, mouthing him there, and Nino’s head fell back, hard, into the pillow.

“Oh-Oh-Ohno,” Nino’s gasp stuttered, the sensation of Ohno’s tongue licking up the underside of his length too intense, and his hands flew to his own hair, gripping it tight, so that when he opened his eyes, all he could see was the store ceiling between the inside of his bent elbows.

Somehow, and Nino didn’t understand how, Ohno’s small mouth was taking him in, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, and Nino’s hips jumped and twitched, and needed to thrust upwards into the slick heat, but he wasn’t so weak as to not be able to control himself… and Ohno held his hips firmly down.

But it was too much, as the suction built, when Ohno swirled his tongue over the head, and Nino cried out.

“Oh-chan, Oh-chan,” he repeated, and let go of his own hair to pull at Ohno’s.

“Hmm?” Ohno hummed, and Nino’s entire body trembled.

“Stop,” Nino gasped, “Stop, Oh-chan.”

Ohno slowed, raised his head-- and oh, his lips were cherry red and puffy, and Nino loved him--- and asked, “But I… But why? I want to, Nino. I want to make you com--”

“In the scraps cart,” Nino cut him off, blushing, "In the second drawer, there's a stash. Aiba showed it to me. Condoms and lube..."

Ohno’s eyes widened with understanding, and he had to ask, “Are you sure?”

“I was sure ten years ago,” Nino bit out, “I don’t want to wait anymore…. I want you, Oh-chan.”

Ohno swallowed, the nickname pulled a tight chord in his heart, but he didn't say a word in response. Instead, he disentangled his limbs from Nino's to stand and stiffly make his way to the back of the store. Sure enough, there was a small bottle and a strip of  metallic packets in the scraps cart... and he couldn't help but wonder what Aiba had been thinking. Had he used these? If so, how had Ohno not noticed?! He never went anywhere, so he couldn't have NOT been there...Pushing the awkward thought out of his head, Ohno returned to his Nino, who immediately chased any other thought from Ohno's head as he lie waiting.

The pillow was moved from beneath Nino’s head to underneath his hips, and he told himself to breathe deep as he heard the snap of the lube’s lid opening. Nino opened his legs a little wider as he felt  a naked Ohno settle more directly between them, and shuddered as Ohno leaned forward and kissed beneath his navel at the same time a slick, cool finger stroked the tender skin behind his balls.

The finger there stroked the skin and circled his rim as Ohno kissed down Nino’s stomach, lips  eventually ghosting over his throbbing heat. Nino sighed, and Ohno took that moment to press his forefinger inside.

Nino bit the inside of his cheek, it had been so long, but Ohno was patient and soon, he was sliding in a second finger with the first.

For a man who hadn’t had the use of his fingers for the majority of ten years, the skillful dexterity of those long digits within Nino was incredible. Each slide of his fingers coaxed the muscles to relax and open, and Ohno was completely focused on the way Nino’s body responded to his touch. He’d brushed it earlier, but he’d waited until Nino wasn’t so tense before hooking his fingers and stroking upwards over the bundle of nerves hidden within the slim man’s body.

“Ah. Oh-chan,” Nino gasped, and his lips stayed parted. His breath hitched as Ohno ran the pads of his fingertips over the spot again and again.

A third finger joined the two, and Ohno concentrated  on preparing Nino for him. Heat built and resistance melted away. As Nino started rising to meet each thrust of the fingers, Ohno pulled back.

“Now Oh-chan,” Nino moaned through clenched teeth, “Now.”

Sliding into Nino took time; Nino was still so tight, but it was worth it as each inch sank further in. Just a few hours ago, Nino had believed Ohno was dead, and Ohno had believed his curse would never grant them the opportunity to be together, so this final, delicious torture was nothing in comparison.

Ohno could wait to take his pleasure, and he was determined that Nino would find his. The smaller man huffed, his breath choppy, when Ohno was sheathed entirely within him, and Ohno waited until Nino’s body relaxed before moving.

Once Nino started mimicking the movement, meeting the gentle thrusts, Ohno’s hips gyrated in pointed, rocking circles, and the dance they’d begun before resumed, building heat and intensity until, suddenly, Ohno’s face was hovering above Nino’s.

“Ah, ah,” Nino panted, Ohno felt so deep within him, “Oh-chan, I’m close.”

He lifted his face to kiss Ohno, hoping to finish with their lips pressed together, but Ohno gave his mouth the briefest of touches before moving to Nino’s ear.

“Kazu,” he whispered, the intensity of their thrusting punctuating the words, “I love you.”

Ohno pulled his face back just in time to watch Nino break apart beneath him.

And then Nino did sob, although he immediately tried to stop. He couldn’t get the tears to quit falling-- but he wished they would. They were blurring his vision and ruining what could be the greatest moment of his life. Ohno held him then, closer than they had ever been before, and with a voice thick with emotion, he whispered into the shell of the younger man's ear, “I’ve wanted to tell you every day for the past ten years, I love you Ninomiya Kazunari. I’m in love with you.”

 

  


~~~~~~~~~Notes & Links~~~~~~~~~

 

Thank you for reading it! I know I took you all off-track and threw in two other fandoms, but I really hope you guys enjoyed it. If you didn't, let me know! Below are some links to wiki articles defining the terms I used.

 

 

 

[yosei](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Y%C5%8Dsei) -- This is what Yasuda and Tegoshi are. Subaru is half yosei, half onmyoji (human).

[yurei](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yurei) -- The deranged spirit-monster. I’m taking creative license with this.

[yamabushi](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamabushi) -- Massu’s origin.

Guardians -- I made these guys up, but they’re basically a lesser magic person (usually of human origin) that is chosen or nominated by a counsel to protect a certain yosei or yosei institution (temple, building, organization) or really any responsibility the overseeing yosei deems fit.

Kekkai-- This is something that occurs more in manga/modern fiction in Japan, and it's basically just a force-field like barrier spell. Examples can be found in XxxHolic and even Sailor Moon.

[shikigami ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shikigami)\-- those things Subaru’s dad conjured as an Onmyoji. Think "Spirited Away"

[onmyoji](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onmyoji) -- Subaru’s dad.


	9. Happily Ever Afters

Aiba Masaki was hungry. He was hungry, or maybe he was thirsty? He was definitely something, because he couldn’t sleep. He just couldn’t. The storm raging outside his window woke him, and it was seemingly impossible for him to fall back asleep.

Reaching for his sweater, he pulled the jumper over his head to cover his naked torso. The feeling that nagged at him and prevented his eyes from closing or his head from finding a comfortable place on the pillow was a familiar one. It was one he’d gotten pretty often since he was a kid, whenever something significant was going to happen. Good or bad, Aiba would get this weird itch at the nape of his neck or the back of his brain-- somewhere he couldn’t scratch, and it would whittle away at him until something happened.

And sometimes, it was a good something… but, other times, it was something really rather bad, and it was those times that made him terrified of the feeling. Like when he was eight and his grandmother’s cat died, or when he was a teenager and his motorcycle hit a stone, sending him flying into the pavement. That had taken a layer of skin clean-off the right side of his body. It wasn’t a memory he was especially fond of.

The feeling was intense that night-- more intense than Aiba had felt it in years. It almost gave him a migraine, the feeling was so relentlessly buzzing away at him. It was as if it wanted to alert Aiba to something important, except Aiba had no way of knowing what that was. Not until it happened.

Well, forever the optimist, Aiba came to the conclusion that getting something to eat or drink would help, so he rubbed his eyes and felt for the lightswitch.

Click. Click-click.

The hall light didn't turn on. Aiba blinked into the darkness and sighed. The storm must have caused an outage, but oh well. Maybe this is what the feeling was trying to tell him: he needed to replace a fuse. Well, too bad. This was the house he grew up in, probably the house he'd die in if he took over the restaurant like his parents wished, and he knew it well enough that he could make his way to the kitchen without the lights.

No big deal. He walked quietly down the hallway, mindful of the members of his family sleeping behind each door he passed. The wind had been blowing the branches awfully hard against his window in his room, and all the way down the hall, Aiba heard it howling through the rafters above his head… but as he approached the bottom of the stairwell, everything seemed to go suddenly still. It was so quiet, Aiba felt the prickling of the hairs on his arms stand on end, and the nagging of the feeling was surpassed by a creeping, irrational fear children get as they find themselves alone in the dark...and frantically hope they stay that way. Alone.

Forcing a tight, high-watt smile, Aiba shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He was being foolish. Still, he walked faster as he strode into the kitchen and swung open the refrigerator. The light didn’t come on, and a voice in his head scolded him for letting the cold out, but he didn’t care. He grabbed an orange and a pitcher of tea. At the counter, he put down the fruit to grab a glass, and in his nervous hurry, he must have been a bit careless. Despite thinking he had left the orange motionless, it had rolled a good 35 cm down the counter. So he must have knocked it…

Aiba filled his glass and downed the cold tea in two gulps. Grabbing his orange, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand while he walked back to the stairs. The room he had to cross through was pitch black, and the feeling was almost burning, it was so strong. Aiba sucked in a breath, clenched the orange, and moved even faster towards the stairs. Something was happening. Something wasn’t right. The feeling wasn’t right. It was too strong. It was--

Something moved.

Something moved in the room. He saw it out of the corner of his eye. Something was there. It had moved. It had moved fast. Aiba felt bile rise in his throat and he darted for the stairs.

Something moved again. Something in the shadows. Something large.

Aiba made it to the stairs, and he was taking them two at a time. He raised his head to look at his goal, he was a footfall away from the top--

It was there. Haunched and black. Moving and not moving. Aiba froze. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Whatever it was, it was watching him. He couldn’t see eyes, but Aiba knew it was watching him, watching it.

And then it lunged.

In a different world, Subaru was standing far too close to something he'd never thought he'd see-- something he had never wanted to see, and especially not when it had been a friend.

Cradled against Tegoshi's torn and bloodied chest was what appeared to be the cold, gray, lifeless body of Masuda Takahisa... except it wasn't right. The body practically hummed with magic--dark magic. Tegoshi had cast a spell, Subaru and Yasuda could feel it, and it was running through the veins of this almost-corpse.

"He's just asleep," Tegoshi whispered, but his body was quaking from shock, making his voice unsteady. His hand trembled as it moved to shield Massu from Subaru and Yasu's eyes-- as if it were possible to prevent them from seeing what Massu had become.

“Oh shit,” Yasu muttered as he moved to get a better look, “Oh no, Tegoshi. He’s gone. We can’t… That’s not him anymore.”

“He’s not gone!” Tegoshi’s voice rose, almost shrill, “I told you, he’s sleeping!”

“Yeah, well, he’s going to wake up, isn’t he?!” Subaru shot back, palms already glowing red, “And then what, Tegoshi?”

“It’s Massu,” Tegoshi whispered, eyes searching both of their faces for understanding--for sympathy, “It’s Massu. I swear.”

“It’s not, Yuya,” Yasuda sighed, and attempted to kneel back down beside his cousin, but, again, Subaru pulled him back. Yasu gave his lover a look before continuing, “He’s gone. He’s dead. That thing there… it’s not going to be him. No yosei can control that spell. Why did you use it? What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t have a choice. He was dying! That thing, she was killing him. Shota, she was killing him. I tried-- I tried to use the spell you used, but I didn’t have love left to borrow. I didn’t have power left to borrow. All I had was blood…” Tegoshi’s voice trembled, and Subaru had never felt so nauseous in his life.

Turning to Yasu, Subaru hissed, “I have to do it. Before it wakes up. Let me burn it.”

“NO!”

Tegoshi’s scream reverberated off the walls, and Subaru lurched backwards, pulling Yasu along with him.

“Quiet!” Subaru whispered harshly, but Tegoshi wasn’t.

“I won’t let you kill him! I won’t!” Tegoshi’s voice reached a terrible volume, and he repeated the screams of protest until Yasuda’s voice rose to meet his.

“The eyes!” Yasuda screamed, “Get out of there, Yuya! Get back!”

But Tegoshi Yuya didn’t get back. He didn’t move, except to lower his gaze to look upon the face he had pressed against his own chest. Looking back at him, glaring red with black where the eyes should have been white, was an awake Massu….. And for a second, even with the discolored eyes, Tegoshi had never seen anything so beautiful in his life as that face he’d feared he wouldn’t see again.

But then Massu opened his mouth-- revealing sharp, elongated teeth.

In an instant, Tegoshi found himself flat on his back, pinned down by Massu. Teeth snapped close to his throat, and Tegoshi scrambled to push Masuda from him. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t get enough air-- Massu was crushing him in his struggle to bite Tegoshi’s jugular.

And then Massu shrieked, an unholy sound that didn’t suit his voice as Tegoshi had known it, and leapt away. Tegoshi saw a flash of red flames, and then Yasuda was beside him, pulling him up to a sitting position. Subaru was poised over both of them, protectively as a Guardian, while Yasuda knelt with Tegoshi.

“Do you see now?” Yasuda whispered, “We have to destroy that thing. It isn’t Massu.”

“It is… I swear, he’s in there,” Tegoshi whispered back, pleading.

“Oh yes, I could tell,” Subaru sneered, eyes searching the shadows in the vast room.

“Please, please,” Tegoshi clung to Yasuda’s sleeve, “Please. Give me a chance. I can prove it to you that he’s still in there. I just need time and… power.”

“Power?” Yasuda murmured, not quite understanding.

“I can trap him-- Bind him to me, and then he’ll be my responsibility. He won't be able to escape. I just need the power. I’m drained,” Tegoshi urged.

“And what happens when he kills you? Hmm? Then he’ll be loose,” Subaru responded before Yasu could.

“He’ll die too. I promise. If I die, Massu will die.”

“That’s in the spell?” Yasuda sounded thoughtful and Subaru scowled.

“Don’t you even think about it, Sho,” Subaru’s voice was dark, “Vampires are forbidden. We have to kill it.”

“But Subaru….” Yasu reached out to hold softly on Subaru’s pant leg, “If the elders are right, and vampires are forbidden because the creatures are mindless with bloodlust, then it will die when it kills Tegoshi…”

“Which will take all of two seconds,” Subaru snorted, but then added seriously, “And it will be a waste of your power! The power you JUST got back. You can’t be seriously considering this, Shota!”

Yasuda looked down, pensive, and after a tense moment, he raised soft eyes to meet Subaru’s, “I’m a blue yosei, I only know how to protect life. I can’t take it.”

He then turned to look at Tegoshi, "You know how these spells work... If he kills you, he will die, but the same applies to you. Do you understand, Yuya? If he dies-- if he is slain, as is our law-- you, too, will die."

"I understand."

“No. Shota,” Subaru started, not liking where this was going, “If you want to save someone, save Tegoshi. That thing is going to kill him. Ah, your eyes are turning blue. Come on. Stop it, Yasu. Don’t do this. We need your power to face the yurei!”

But it was too late. Looking at the pain in his cousin’s eyes-- a cousin who had sacrificed so much for him-- Yasuda knew he owed this to Tegoshi. Under a rain of curses from Subaru, Yasuda lent Tegoshi the power he had regained.

Sunlight was peeking in when Sho's alarm went off, waking both of the men in his bed. Sho physically started, jerking awake, because he hadn't intended to sleep. He felt his tablet slipping from where it laid balanced on his chest after he’d passed out, and quickly grabbed it.

Jun had been using the laptop, but the newly-turned-human had fallen asleep on the keyboard somewhere around 4:30 in the morning, and Sho had gently slipped the computer from beneath his head. Sho had wanted to lay awake and try to continue the search for what they could do to break the spell while Jun slept... But Jun. Jun's eyelashes laid so soft and full against his pale skin. His lips, which Sho had been so drawn to in their carved perfection, would quirk or pout or press together or -- and this one made Sho's breath catch in his throat-- part and sigh what almost sounded like his name.

Jun's body even moved in his sleep. His hand would clutch Sho's fingers, then relax. His waist would twist, and Jun's legs would overlap Sho's and then move away…The loathsome crack that had so horrified Jun was nothing more than a thin, jagged scar running up the man's shin. It wasn't frightening, and it certainly didn't take away from Jun's beauty.

As a mannequin, Jun had been beautiful, but living? Jun was intoxicating. Sho couldn’t get enough of him-- couldn’t get close enough to him. He wanted to feel every inch of Jun pressed against him, while, at the same time, Sho wanted to be far enough on his side of the bed to be able to see all of Jun.

In the end, Sho remembers just staring at Jun as he’d lost consciousness and succumbed to sleep as the sun began to rise outside his little window.

Hours later and woken by the alarm, Jun proved he was truly awake by rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow, so all Sho could see beside him was mussed hair and a bare back that tapered beneath his bed sheet. Jun laid there like that, unmoving even though the clock was ticking, for several moments, as if he was waiting for Sakurai to say something.

For a moment, Sho held his breath, and then he leaned forward to brush the softly curling hair aside. His fingers weren’t as long or slender as Jun’s, and they hovered a second too long. Before he got the chance to touch--

BANG. Bang-bang! bang-bang-bang-bang...

It was the back door. Someone was banging on it. Jun almost rolled off the bed, he was so surprised at the sudden noise echoing up from the first floor, and Sho groaned. Whoever was at the door at terrible timing.

Rubbing his eyes, Jun scrunched his face at Sho, “Are you going to see who it is?”

Sho’s eyebrows irritatedly furrowed in response, and he pulled a fake pout, making Jun chuckle, but then he sighed, “Yeah.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jun sat up, rumpled and red on the cheek he’d slept on, and looked around for his pants. The banging was relentless on the door, and Jun looked up, surprised, when a pair of sweats landed in his lap.

Sho smirked, his eyes flashing, “Race you.”

With a grin spreading across his face, he pulled on the pants and was reaching for a shirt when the banging picked up volume. Forgoing the shirt, Jun and Sho scrambled for the apartment door instead. They were almost at the landing when Jun skidded to a halt on the stairs.

His eyes fixed on Nino answering the door.

“Oh shit,” Jun thought to himself, his mind humming nervously as Nino, with some serious bedhead, rubbed his eyes and undid the locks.

“Jun!” Sho grumbled behind him, “What are you doing? Let’s go downstairs and see who it is.”

“Nino,” Jun hissed back.

“Nino’s at the door?”

“NO. He slept here, remember?!”

“Oh yeah...What about Nino?” Sho retorted in a loud whisper.

“If he sees me, he’ll recognize me.”

“Well so what? He’s smart. Maybe he can help us.”

“If he recognizes me,” Jun whispered quickly, “He will be suspicious of Ohno, and Ohno doesn’t want Nino to know he’s--”

“Oh my god,” Sho spoke over Jun, and Jun dropped to a crouch, in a panicked attempt to hide.

“What?! Is he coming?” Jun hissed, trying to hide his face in Sho’s leg.

“No….Jun look,” Sho breathed, “It’s Captain.”

Jun stood up and looked just as a human and very half-naked Ohno Satoshi, or Captain, walked lazily to the door Nino had by then opened, and was talking to the person outside of it. Ohno just plopped his head down on Nino’s shoulder and looked at whoever Nino was talking to.

As if it was the most casual situation ever.

It was far less casual for Jun, who, immediately saw the missing circle on Ohno’s bare arm and shouted, “Captain?!”

Ohno lifted his head to acknowledge Jun just in time for Nino to turn on his heel and look too without cracking their heads together.. Nino’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes flicked between human Jun and Sho, and then over to Ohno.

“What the hell is going on?” he mumbled, very confused.

Sheepishly, Ohno gestured to Jun as the beautiful man was quickly walking towards him, “This is--” oof!-- “Matsumoto Jun.”

He oof-ed just as Jun had wrapped his arms around Ohno to hug him, hard. Very hard. His beautiful features crushing Ohno’s hair.

Nino was even more confused and much less pleased.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Nino asked, darkly eying Jun run his fingers over where the spell’s blue circle no longer marked Ohno’s skin. Neither appeared to have heard Nino, as Ohno was pressing his lips together and shaking his head while Jun briefly showed the circle that remained on him.

“Absolutely Nino,” Sho said, noting the suspicious look on the shorter man’s face, “But first, let me handle whoever is at the door.”

“Oh, it’s just Aiba,” Nino said, letting the door swing open.

Sho saw him and motioned for Aiba to come in, figuring everyone might as well know, but Aiba didn’t move. He just stood there, wide-eyed and mouth open, staring at the former-mannequins.

Sho saw the look on Aiba’s face and realized the poor guy was probably the most shocked by this. He’d never heard Jun or Captain’s voice-- he wasn’t a telepath, and they’d never revealed themselves to him… So Aiba had worked for years alongside these mannequins without the slightest--

“...Jun?”

Aiba’s voice was soft, and all eyes snapped to him. Sho’s mind blanked. What? How? Why? Why did Aiba know Jun’s name? Subaru said Aiba didn’t know about the mannequins…

“You’re…...alive?” Aiba’s voice was breathy, disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Jun nodded his head, an awkward jerky motion, “Ohno is too.”

“The other mannequin,” Aiba whispered, “The dancer.”

“...How do you know that?” Nino asked then, his confusion practically radiating off him.

“How do you know my name?” Jun added, his voice joining Nino’s confusion.

Sho didn’t say so, but he was also very interested to learn what Aiba knew, and he physically guided the gangly shop attendant inside so he could shut the door behind him.

“So….how did you know?” Jun repeated.

Aiba looked panicked for a second, but then he said simply, “I just...I don’t know. I just know. I’m right, aren’t I? You’re Jun...and he is a dancer.”

Aiba gestured to him and Ohno just shrugged. Aiba was right.

“But...Are you magic?” Aiba’s voice reached an excited tone, “Tell me. What kind of magic are you? What ARE you?”

Aiba stepped closer to Jun, and might have touched him, but Jun stepped back and Sho took Jun’s hand in his.

“Are you magic?” Nino turned to Ohno.

“I’m not,” Ohno shook his head, “But Yasu is.”

“Who? Him?” Nino pointed, “I thought his name was Jun.”

“Not Jun,” Ohno amended, “Subaru’s, er, friend that he’s visiting…. Actually, Subaru is kind of magic too.”

“Kind of?” Nino’s eyebrow rose.

“He’s completely magic,” Jun corrected.

“Oh…” Nino and Aiba said, almost synchronized.

Ohno moved over to Subaru’s comfy spot in the back room and plopped down on a pillow. Waving a hand at Jun, he sighed, “Might as well start from the beginning…”

Jun grumbled that Ohno just didn’t want to have to explain to Nino himself, but as the others moved over to join Ohno on the cushions, Jun started with himself, and his bookstore that had belonged to his uncle, all those years ago.

As Jun spoke about the war, Nino and Ohno scooted closer together. Jun described how shadows seemed to haunt him after the first incident, with his arm, how he’d never felt quite right, and then he’d almost died. In these distant memories, the shadows seemed to have swallowed him whole, overpowering the deafening roar of the war as his life was stolen…

But then he had seen a blinding shade of blue, and in the haze of pain and screams and silence, Yasuda had cast a spell.

“Yasuda cast a spell?” Nino blurted.

“He’s...he’s not human,” Jun explained, “He’s yosei. He’s a blue yosei. They come in colors and ranks…”

“Oh,” Nino muttered, as if he could possibly relate, “Is Subaru yosei too?”

“Not exactly,” Jun responded, looking at Ohno for affirmation, “I think his mother was. A red, but Subaru isn’t completely, and he’s a lower rank.”

“Why lower?” Sho mused.

“Because his immortality derives from Yasu, I think,” Jun responded, “But I’m not sure. Anyway, Subaru is a Guardian.”

“A Guardian…” Aiba mumbled, low.

Jun continued then, explaining that Guardians are gifted magic in exchange for protection and services, and in Subaru and Yasuda’s case, love. He briefly depicted the years he’d spent before Ohno, saying that he had spent them mostly asleep.

When Jun reached Ohno’s portion of the tale, he faltered at the dancer’s near-death experience. “I’m not exactly sure what happened there,” Jun admitted, “I mean, I know I was there. I remember the performance… It was on my One Day, but…”

Jun paused, his expression almost pained in concentration as he tried to remember.

“I just remember the sound from the alley way -- your voice, Captain-- but…. it was a scream, and then there was suddenly so much darkness. Maybe I fainted. I think I did… I woke up in a temple with yosei friends of Yasu’s.”

“I remember the shadows too,” Ohno murmured, and Nino pressed himself tightly against him, “Something attacked me. Something in the shadows.”

“In the shadows?” Aiba quietly asked. His eyes were boring right into Ohno, and the dancer shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, but I don’t remember what it was…. I can’t remember.”

“Sure as shit wasn’t a burglar,” Nino grumbled, his thin lips pressed into Ohno’s neck and mufflling the sound. Ohno wrapped his arm around Nino. Sho looked over at Jun, who was leaning against the wall across from him. The storytelling was put on hold, giving Ohno and Nino a moment. It was a lot to take in.

Aiba fidgeted, catching Sho’s eye. His limbs were folded beneath him, but then Aiba shifted to sit on his heels. He was staring at Jun, too. Sho noticed, and he didn’t have time to think anything of it before Aiba was walking across the small space and closing the distance between himself and the former-mannequin.

And then Aiba took Jun’s face in his hands and kissed him.

“Hey!” Sho shouted, jumping up. Jun tensed, hands flying up to push at Aiba’s shoulders. In a second, they were separated, but Sho was still ready to haul Aiba out of there.

“I love you!” Aiba gasped, wiping his bottom lip, “I always have.”

“Yeah, ok, but you can’t just kiss him. You don’t even know him,” Sho scolded, pulling Aiba away from Jun.

“I do!” Aiba protested, “I’ve dreamt of him! I always have. That’s why…..That’s why I always talked to you, Jun. That's why I know your name. Because I love you. All these years."

Jun’s eyes were wide, and he kept running the back of his hand over his mouth. He swallowed, then began with, “I’m sorry, Aiba. I--”

“Jun!” Ohno shouted, and everyone jumped, “Your arm.”

“Wha...” the words died on Jun’s lips as he lifted his forearm and saw the blue circle disappearing into his skin.

The circle. It was gone. It was gone, and Aiba’s kiss made it happen.

The room went stunningly quiet. Everyone held his breath as all eyes were fixed on Jun, staring at his arm.

“Aiba…” Jun breathed, eventually, “I love you."

“What?!” Sho hadn’t meant to shout, but he did, and he could feel his blood pressure rising.

“It must be love. We’re in love… Aiba and I,” Jun’s voice sounded fragile and faraway, and the way his phrases were scattered and almost dreamlike made Sho feel cold.

“Only love-- true love-- could break the spell. Because… because Subaru always told us, the spell borrowed the greatest magic of all to save our lives, and it would only be broken when we’d returned it-- when we found our true love and could finally love him back. Aiba kissed me and the circle, the mark of the blue yosei spell, disappeared. Like Ohno and Nino, Aiba must be my--”

“No. Wait. Say that again,” Sakurai’s voice came sharp and low, cutting Jun off.

“A..About love?” Jun muttered, surprised at the outburst and uneasy tone Sho’s voice had taken. Jun’s head was still spinning, and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything except that the blue circle on his arm was gone, and it had been Aiba Masaki that made it disappear.

“Was that why you let me kiss you? Was it, Jun? Is that why you kissed me back?,” Sho’s voice was staccato and hard.

“You two kissed?” Nino blurted, but was ignored.

“Is that why you slept with me? Jun?” Sho’s voice boomed over Nino’s, “To see if it would break the spell?”

“I thought it would!” Jun’s eyes were wide, his voice practically pleading. “I was so sure it was you…”

“Yeah, well,” Sho swallowed a hard lump in his throat. The truth was out and it was a hard pill to swallow, “It’s not.”

Sho looked at everyone, then dropped his eyes to the floor before repeating quietly, “It’s not me.”

Jun just stood there, lips parted, after Sho stopped speaking. Nino’s face flushed bright red and he looked as if he wanted to say something-- anything-- to diffuse the situation, but he couldn’t decide what, and before he could, Ohno tugged the thin man’s sleeve and when Nino looked at him, Ohno just shook his head and kept his eyes down. It wasn’t a time for either of them to speak.

Aiba stepped forward, and in a shy, almost apologetic voice asked, “Isn’t it… Isn’t it okay that I love Jun? Jun’s so beautiful and I’ve loved Jun--” Aiba stopped himself and turned to Jun with searching eyes, “I’ve loved you for so long. Isn’t that okay?”

“Oh!” Jun stuttered before forcing out, “ Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay, Aiba… You broke my spell. Only the heart from which true love’s magic was borrowed could make me human again. ”

Saying “true love” suddenly felt stupid and immature, but that’s what the spell had said. That’s what Subaru and Yasuda had always told him. So that’s what he kept saying,, because-- because even though he was feeling more numb than anything else, he must be in love with Aiba. And Aiba had to be in love with him.

It was what he had always wanted. Even when he’d been nothing more than a simple poet and book seller.

This was his fairy tale ending. “And they lived happily ever after…”


	10. Averted Eyes

Sho was numb, sitting at an awkward angle on this lopsided pillow, watching the others from the floor of the back room. The others-- Ohno, Nino, Aiba...and Jun-- they decided not to open the shop at all that day, and, instead, favored celebrating Jun and Ohno’s return to flesh and blood by attending the summer festival. All Sho had to do was nod his head. And he did. Of course he did.

This was wonderful...

But the festival wasn’t going to be worthwhile until that night, and they had hours to wait before darkness fell… And it seemed like the others were all content to just hang out in the back room. Sho couldn’t seem to find any words to say, but the rest were just happy to talk, and Aiba seemed to have a thousand questions. Mostly, the questions were directed at Jun, but some went to Ohno and Nino.

Sho felt forgotten.

Which made sense. He didn’t have a history with the shop or the mannequins. He was newer to the situation-- an outsider, really.

At one point, towards noon, Ohno demanded food. He pointed out that he hadn’t eaten in a very long time and couldn’t wait one moment longer, so Aiba and Jun--Sho didn’t notice or care how quickly Jun offered to go too-- went over to the restaurant to get lunch for everyone.

While they were gone, Nino had asked Sho if he was alright, and Sakurai had nodded. He mumbled that he was fine, just tired. The fire had really worn him out. That’s what he told Nino, and the slim man took it from there, telling Ohno how frightened he’d been for him when Jun had caught fire. Jun and Aiba returned shortly after, touting bags of wonderful smelling Chinese takeout.

Jun was juggling his parcels, and Sakurai rose immediately to help him. As he took one of the bags, their hands brushed, and Jun recoiled. His swift retraction of his hand burned Sho in a way that bit sharply.. Sho stopped and looked at his hand, the one that had been seemingly good enough to touch Jun the previous night, and then back up at Jun’s face. Jun wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Aiba came over and took Jun’s newly freed hand, having set down his own bags, and that numbness that Sakurai had been feeling suddenly...snapped. His vision blackened at the edges, and all Sho could see was that Aiba could touch Jun but he couldn’t. He’d spent every single day over several weeks becoming close to Jun… He knew Jun’s favorite color, what his favorite poem was, where he’d learned to swim-- but now Jun couldn’t even abide their hands touching?

Sho snatched Jun’s hand back, and Jun made a strangled sound that had both Ohno and Nino’s heads snapping in their direction.  
“Let go,” Jun whispered, fingers growing white as he pulled them back and Sho held tighter.  
But Sho didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t let go. Everything inside of him was screaming that Jun was his. His. Not Aiba’s… It was like a dark, ugly possessive cloud had settled over him, and he couldn’t help but breathe it in. He just wanted to keep Jun. He just wanted to change fate.

“Sho.”

Sho jumped as a hand clamped on his shoulder, and he looked to see Ohno standing beside him. Sakurai couldn’t make out the expression in Captain’s dark eyes, but he knew he didn’t like it.

“You’re hurting him,” Ohno said, firmly, “Let go.”

Sho looked down at his grip and instantly released Jun. The slender man immediately pulled his hand into his chest and rubbed his fingers. He didn’t once look at Sho’s face, and the guilt just washed over him. Like ice, it stung as Sho realized what he’d done. How he’d behaved… He’d hurt Jun.

“Come here, Jun,” Aiba said, his voice suddenly bright, if not a little strange-- but who could blame him?--, “Let’s just eat. The food is getting cold.”

“Ah!” Ohno shouted, making an overly horrified face that even had Jun cracking a smile as he scrambled for the containers. Within seconds, Nino was helping the older man open every dish, so he could have some of each. Aiba served Jun and himself, and Jun, with just the faintest flush on his cheeks, started handing out utensils and plates. Sho waited until everyone else had their food before he got his own.

And, until Ohno was about to topple over, they ate.

It had been delicious. Everyone said so, and the look of pure joy on Ohno’s face was priceless. Nino almost cried again because of it, which embarrassed him terribly because he “wasn’t a crier.” Sakurai didn’t eat much, but that was because Ohno was trying gorge himself, and not because he didn’t feel well. Sho didn’t think he saw Jun even take a bite. He just saw the other stir the fried noodles Aiba had given him aimlessly... but it wasn’t like Sho was watching Jun anymore. He really wasn’t. In fact, he was trying his best not to look at Jun. Aiba fell into the same category, so Sho didn’t really look at him either. Nino and Ohno kept giving him these pathetic, “understanding” looks, so Sakurai didn’t feel much like meeting their eyes, which left him with no one. Instead, he chose random objects around the room to look at. No one seemed to care if he talked to any of them or not.

Suddenly, the conversation fell silent, and Sho looked away from the tassel on the pillow he’d been staring at to see why… and then he wished he’d hadn’t. Jun and Aiba were kissing, again.

Sakurai felt his hands itch to touch; to grip their shoulders and rip them apart. His legs ached to rise from their seated position, but he couldn’t move… Their lips were brushing against one another’s, Aiba more confident while Jun was hesitant, and Sho couldn’t tear his eyes away… It was surreal. It felt like he was outside of his body; a fly on the wall, while the slender, beautiful pair across from him kissed. He had never seen anything that looked so wrong but also so very perfect. They looked pictorial together, as if they’d been torn from a glossy magazine, and Sho knew he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t modelesque. Not like those two. He was just rich, and Jun had been right… His money couldn’t break the spell. And Sho hadn’t had anything else to offer.

Not anything Jun needed…. or wanted.  
The ugly, black possessiveness that clouded his vision before was still running hot through his veins, but Sho pushed it back. What right had he to ever feel that Jun belonged to him? Jun had never been his, not even when they lain together. Jun had already belonged to someone else… and as Sho sat there, eyes fixed on another man’s lips caressing Jun’s; another man’s hands running up and down Jun’s arms, Sho couldn’t even hate him.

He couldn’t even say Jun was making a mistake.

Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t a mistake to fall in love with Aiba. It wasn’t a mistake to love that man more. Aiba was fucking nice, damn it. Aiba deserved someone like Jun...and for all Jun’s suffering, he had definitely earned Aiba’s kindness. Aiba would never grow cold to him. He’d never take his frustrations out on him. Sho was willing to bet that Aiba had never raised his voice in anger at all, let alone lashed out at a loved one.

All in all, Aiba was the better man. And as Sho decided this, he forced his legs to support his weight as he stood up. Somewhere, distant from the sound of his blood beating in his ears, Sho heard Nino ask where he was going, and as he reached the door, he might have heard a soft voice in his head say his name, reaching out with telepathy Sho had almost forgotten he could use, except his name sounded like an apology...and Sho didn’t want one of those.

There was absolutely nothing to apologize for.

Sho’s feet carried him numbly to his car, and he swore under his breath as he realized his hands were shaking while he tried to unlock the door. It took more of an effort than usual to get his thumb to hit the tiny button on the keychain, and when he finally heard the click and was able to collapse into the driver’s seat, he just sat there. For ten minutes… or maybe thirty, he sat in the Mitsubishi. It was hot, and he had already felt like he was suffocating, so he’d turned the ignition and the air on almost immediately… but then he didn’t move. Sho just sat there and let the engine run, trying to breathe...trying to stop shaking. His eyes kept flickering, of their own accord, to the review mirror and view of the shop’s door within it.

His breath kept catching, every time he thought it might be opening...

It never did open. And the words “forgotten” and “outsider” plagued Sho… The conversations that the others had carried on in the shop were memories spanning from over a decade ago to a few months ago to today...and Sho had been jarringly reminded that he had only been present for a few weeks of their lives...not years. Somehow, he’d almost felt like his position at the corporation and his own high-rise apartment were from a different lifetime, some long ago and distant memory-- but they weren’t. It was the people who’d sat around him, all reminiscing and forming long-awaited bonds, whose lives were separate from his. It was with them that he didn’t belong… He didn’t have a life there, and once Sho could actually hear the song on the radio over the rush of blood in his ears, he threw the car into reverse and pealed out of the parking lot.

He drove at breakneck speeds, swerving to pass any car that dared to drive in front of him, straight for the inner city. There, hitting the traffic, Sho took his first deep breath in hours… This was his world. This is where he belonged. He slipped on his Ray Bans and turned up the satellite radio.

Within half an hour, he was home. Sho made a mental note to call his father the next morning, from his office, to let him know that he wouldn’t be returning to the shop. Nino was there. He could carry out the plans Sho had put into place. He would ensure that the shop met the projected quota. Sho was not going back.

His apartment smelled crisp and clean, faintly like the chemicals the house cleaning ladies used, and Sho started lighting his scented candles as the sun started to set outside his window. He’d left his main laptop, plus just about all of his other electronics, at the shop apartment, so he settled down in front of the television to watch the news while checking the market standings on his phone. Sho would have an assistant drive down the following day to pick up his things. He’d hire a moving company to get the furniture that was his. Nino could keep the rest of it, including the apartment. Or maybe Aiba would want it….

Sho was woken from that train of thought when his screen switched from the DOW to “Call Incoming”, and he groaned when he saw the number.

“Hello Subaru,” he muttered into the phone.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” the voice on the other end shouted back, and Sho pulled the phone a little further away from his ear, “I’m at the shop and you are not. What’s going on? WAS THERE A FIRE?! There looks like there was a FIRE! I told you to call me if something happened! A FIRE falls under the lines of SOMETHING HAPPENING.”

“Calm down Shibutani,” Sho replied, voice edged in irritation, “And check your voicemail. We did call. A lot.”

“Where are you?” Subaru snapped.

“I’m….out,” Sho muttered, running his free hand through his hair as he stood up and started walking towards the kitchen, “Look, just ask the others what happened. You must have noticed Jun and Captain-- or should I say Ohno?”

“None of them are here. This place is empty. Is Jun not with you?”

The last question caused an uncomfortable lurch in Sho’s chest, and his throat was tight when he answered, “No. Jun is not with me. They’re not mannequins now, and they’re probably at the festival.”

“....”

Sho could hear as Subaru spoke to someone else in a hushed, agitated voice, “No, he says Jun and Ohno aren’t mannequins-- yes, I know we already knew that-- and is at the festival with the others. He says they aren’t together.”

There was a soft voice responding, but he couldn’t make out the words, and while Sho didn’t recognize it, he realized it must be Yasuda. He didn’t miss that they both already knew about Jun and Ohno turning back into men, either.

He was about to tell Shibutani he had to go, but then Subaru was back speaking into the receiver, “Others who, exactly?”

“Uh, Ohno, Nino...Aiba.”

“Aiba?! You let Aiba see them?”

Well, Sho guessed they didn’t know everything.

“Yeah, he…..He broke Jun’s spell. So they’re together now, and I’m not with them” Sho told him, the words spilling quick and jagged from his lips. He didn’t want to be thinking about this.

More hushed whispers and then Subaru’s voice was loud when he asked, “What do you mean he broke Jun’s spell?”

Oh dear God, he was going to make Sho say it…

“He kissed him and the circle on Jun’s arm disappeared,” Sho spit the words out.

The voice in the background, the one he couldn’t understand before, suddenly rose, and Sho easily heard the word, “Impossible!”

Subaru reiterated it, not a second later, into the phone, “That’s impossible. Sho, where are you?!”

The urgency in Subaru’s voice was starting to get to Sho, and he responded, “In my apartment. In the city.”

“For the love of-- What are you doing the whole way out there?!”

“I--”

“ Nevermind. Sho, Yasuda says we’re coming for you. Don’t move.”

“Wha--- Why?”

“Jun’s in danger.”

The line went dead before Sho could respond, and his thumb had the slightest tremor to it as he tapped off the screen. The state of the economy completely forgotten, Sho let his phone drop onto his dining room table with a clack. He walked over to his chair by the television, sat, and waited. The news had moved on to entertainment, and he didn’t even bother to change it. In fact, he didn’t really hear it. All he kept hearing was the fear in Subaru’s voice when he said Jun was in danger.


	11. Desperate Measures

Sho was frozen in his chair, staring at nothing, when he noticed gooseflesh creeping up his arms. His skin continued to prickle, and then he thought he felt a light breeze before, suddenly, a wind-- something more like an ocean gale--whipped through his house and extinguished all of his candles.

Normally, the scent from the candles would linger, but it was instantly gone. Instead, he thought he caught something more like the electric smell that saturates the air before a storm. The wind rushed, and a flash of blue lit up the room with a loud crack. 

Sho’s entire body recoiled, sending the chair almost toppling backwards, but he caught himself with flailing arms. Shaken out of his stupor, Sho was still waving his arms frantically as cerulean smoke wafted around his apartment. When it cleared, there was Subaru standing in the middle of his living room with a stranger at his side. The guy looked a little ill… But Sho’s mind was preoccupied.

“Subaru! You almost gave me a heartattack. You could have warned me you were going to burst into my apartment!” Sho half-shouted, jumping up, and the red Guardian cringed, “What is going on? What’s wrong with Jun?”

Subaru put up his palms and made the motion to say ok, ok, and proceeded to drag one of Sho’s chairs closer before pushing the stranger, who Sho assumed must be Yasuda, into it. Sho walked over, and up close, the man looked even worse.

“He looks like hell” Sho blurted, then slapped his palm over his mouth.

“Yeah, well, he saved the life of a vampire before we got here.”

“Oh,” Sho’s mouth formed a perfect circle before he added, “That’s good.”

“No, it’s stupid,” Subaru sniped, “Now sit down and listen to me, because I only have time to tell you the story once.”

“No time,” Yasuda whispered, clinging to the cuff of Subaru’s sleeve.

“Abridged version then,” Subaru stated, the words short and clipped, “Right. Here we go. So you know what we are, and you think you know how the mannequins almost died, but you don’t.”

“Actually, I’m not exactly sure what you are, and neither was really clear about how he died. Ohno mentioned shado--”

“Yeah. Shadows. Don’t interrupt,” Subaru said, curtly, “Those shadows belong to this abnormally powerful yurei. We suspect it is so power-- and it is SO powerful-- because it didn’t come from an earthly soul but something else. Something from the spirit realm. We don’t know what yet, and that’s part of the problem.”

Sho swallowed hard, and felt his jaw clench. This was all over his head. He couldn’t handle this. . . But Jun.

“BUT we do know that it is obsessed with beauty and perfection. It seems to prey on the exquisite, and nothing less. I don’t know what it was before, but now, it is psychotic for beautiful people. It’s standards are pretty shallow. Skin deep, and I can’t tell you how many bodies it has left in its wake. The thing practically reeks of blood… and it has for decades. I expect to find the damn thing today in a wake of blood-- Just not Jun’s or Ohno’s. Not theirs. It practically destroyed Tegoshi Yuya, though, and he’s an elite among our people. Ah, Tegoshi is Yasu’s cousin,” Subaru jerked his head at the man seated beside him, and Subaru’s voice faltered a little when he added, “and you met Massu. Masuda Takahisa was his Guardian. That’s what I am to Yasuda, and the mannequins.”

“Was? Is he okay?” Sho asked.

“Not really. He’s the vampire. Neither Massu or Tegoshi will survive, actually.”

“Subaru!” Yasuda whined, and the Guardian pressed his lips against his hair.

“Why is he a vampire?” Sho asked, but Subaru waved his question away.

“Not our problem now. Our problem is that monster. This yurei commonly takes the form of a woman in black. She can’t maintain it though… So people will eventually notice she isn’t right. Unless she’s possessed a body.”

“She can possess people?”

“That’s what I said. Stop talking. So she might have possessed the body of someone with a magical inclination… or someone who is good looking, or both. I very much doubt it’s an ugly person. So she’s probably rather beautiful and presumably trying to get into Jun and Ohno.”

“What do you men, ‘get into’? And why them? There are other hot people out there!” Sho’s voice rose.

“It, or she, is obsessed with Jun. That’s why I said he’s in danger. She wants Ohno, too-- badly-- but not as much as Jun. I’ve seen the images Tegoshi shared with Massu. For seventy years, her thoughts have been obsessed with him. She blames him for her entrapment. I would say the obsession has driven her mad, but. . .”

Sho’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and his knuckles were white 

“We need to find him! Before she does. We need to get to him! You guys, you can save him right? You can do that- that wind and poof thing and get him the hell away from her! Can’t you?”

“Well…” Subaru glanced at Yasuda, “We think she already has.”

“WHA--”

Sho was cut off as Subaru thrust Yasuda’s bare arm at him. Clear as day, there was a dark blue circle remaining on the underside of the forearm, towards the wrist.

“Look,” Subaru insisted, “That mark is Jun’s. He’s still under the spell.”

“But…”

“And if you’re saying that Aiba was the one that made his circle disappear, then we need to find him and the others immediately.”

“You’re saying that Aiba is possessed by the monster?!”

“I’m saying that’s what it sounds like,” Subaru snapped, “Look, none of this is right. That fire back at the shop? That reeks of her magic.”

Suddenly Yasuda spoke up, softly, “Was anyone burnt by that fire?”

“Jun was!” Sho was starting to feel sick, “It started right by where we’d positioned them… They were still standing there because Nino--”

“Cut to the chase, Sho,” Subaru urged.

“Jun’s shin was burnt. It cracked.”

“That’s how his One Day started without me,” Yasuda gasped, “That is how she got in!”

“What?”

“She wouldn’t dare mar his human flesh. That’s too perfect for her, but she must have been willing to injure the wooden mannequin to get her magic into him. Once her magic was there, all he needed was an emotional spark, and he’d change. Which must have happened, because the One Day started,” Subaru was speaking quickly, starting to stand and fasten his jacket.

“She won’t damage the physical form of her victims because she wants them as perfect as possible, so her magic poisons by having them ingest it, and within moments, she consumes their souls--perfect reflections of their pristine corpses--as the magic draws it from their bodies, before devouring the flesh itself. It’s a bloody mess. I’ve seen it. If the body is scarred, so is the soul, and then she doesn’t want it anymore.”

“And she badly wants Jun…” Sho whispered, but his voice rose tremulously as realization hit him, “She’s using Aiba to get them to eat something he made!”

“Right. You’ve got it. Now are you ready? Let’s go,” Subaru said, gripping Yasuda’s arm to help him up.

“Yes! I’ll drive,” Sho exclaimed, standing and fishing in his pant’s pocket for his keys.

“Wha-? No, Sho. We aren’t driving.”

“Wait...The smoke thing?” Sho’s round eyes rounded further as they flicked to the weakened blue yosei.

“Yes,” Yasuda answered, “I’m going to take us back home.”

“So get over here and hold on,” Subaru beckoned quickly.

Sho gulped, and hurriedly took the two quick strides over to grip Yasuda’s forearm before he changed his mind. As Yasu closed his eyes, there was that electric charge to the air again, and Sho felt his stomach drop as the world around them snapped, and he found himself being torn through a vacuum of blue.

 

And then, Sho was crashing to the ground. Gravel bit into his palms as he thrust his arms out, instinctively, to catch himself before his face hit the concrete. He stayed on his hands and knees, huffing, until he caught his breath and his vision cleared. The concrete beneath his hands was yellowed by lamplight and rough, and he could feel a breeze that carried the smell of street food. They were outside, near the festival. Voices and music replaced the ringing in his ears, and Sho rocked back onto his heels to see Subaru standing, perfectly unfazed, and supporting a lethargic Yasuda.

“We can’t keep doing that,” Subaru muttered darkly, “You’re killing yourself.”

“Oh,” Yasu’s voice was faint and reedy, “You know it’s not that easy… and Jun needs us.”

Sho looked around and quickly recognized his surroundings. It was the same neighborhood as the costume shop, and he clenched his hands nervously into fists. They’d landed in a vacant side street, but just down the way, Jun was somewhere in the crowd, with a vulnerable Ohno and Nino, and a, more-than-likely, possessed Aiba-- and he had to find him.

“Let’s go,” Sho urged.

“You go. I’m going to set him down somewhere safe first.”

“What?! But I need you there. I can’t fight that thing.”

“You’re not going to fight it. You’re going to get Jun and Ohno away from it. Hurry. We don’t have time and Yasu will only slow us down right now.”

“But--”

“GET JUN, SHO! Yasuda is vulnerable like this and I need to protect him! You go and protect what is yours!”

Sho swallowed hard and nodded. He was already moving away when he muttered, “I have my cellphone. I’ll call you when I find them.”

“Got it. I’ll call you if I find them first.”

Sho turned and ran then, straight into the crowd. Quickly, he wove through the people, swerving to miss the elderly and all the smiling faces popping up to offer food or charms. 

His mind just kept chanting the same thing, Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun….

Panic set in as the crowd thickened. He couldn’t get through the crush fast enough, and worse, he couldn’t search all of the faces properly. He couldn’t see over or through all the people. Thinking quickly, always the problem solver, Sho looked up at the buildings for a second story entrance. In moments, he spotted one and raced for the stairs.

From the landing, Sho was much more successful at scanning the crowd. His gaze searched methodically, each face, each stand, each venue…. Not catching fish, not at the sweets stand… Suddenly he caught a familiar sign. It was for Aiba’s family’s restaurant! They’d set up a booth. Right behind it, almost in the shadows, was Ohno, Nino, Aiba, and--

“JUN!” Sho yelled, but the beautiful man didn’t even look up. He wasn’t close enough and the crowd was too loud. Sho turned and started racing down the stairs, jumping halfway to the ground. An old man scolded him, but Sho was already down the street, racing towards the restaurant’s stand. 

It was Nino who saw him first, and he let out a greeting of “Sho-kun!” as he tugged on Ohno’s sleeve. Ohno whirled around, and he and Nino shared a quick, suspicious look before waving. Sakurai didn’t even acknowledge them as he came to a wheezing stop in front of Jun.

“Sho?” Jun’s eyes lit with a moment of something bright when they saw Sho, but then quickly darkened with confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“You!” Sho huffed, catching his breath, “Jun, you need to come with me now. Hurry!”

“Oh my god, Sho,” Nino sounded disappointed and slapped a hand to his forehead, obviously thinking that Sho was making a spectacular fool of himself by trying to steal Jun away.

“You can join us, Sho,” Jun said in that quiet tone that was about drive Sho nuts, “But I’m not going with you. I don’t belong with you. I’m sorry.”

“Yes you do! You do! Or I don’t know. I don’t know how you feel about me, BUT I know I need to get you away from him!”

“Him? Aiba?” Jun’s voice rose slightly in disgust, “ You mean Aiba? He’s your friend, Sho. How can you say something like that?”

“No, no, listen to me--” Sho tried to reason, trying desperately to think of how to convince them as quickly as possible, “Ah! Jun, your leg! Look at your leg. Look at the scar!”

Jun raised a heavy eyebrow, but he did pull up his pant leg enough to see where the thin scar would start.

Except it didn’t. There was nothing but smooth skin and hair.

“Huh?” Jun murmured.

“See! This is what I’m talking about!” Sho exclaimed.

“It is?” Nino’s face was a vision of confusion and disbelief.

“It had been scarred before, but it had been a magic burn!” Sho explained, urgency tipping his words, “The magic made the scar disappear, and it is what made you--” .

“Dango’s done!” Aiba said cheerily, although Sho felt the sound slice through him like a knife.

Aiba came up from behind the others, and for the first time, Sho noticed Aiba’s family’s booth was completely empty. No one was there… Heat radiated off the grill next to vegetables and meat, and an abandoned pot boiled near a stack of waiting zongzi, some freshly finished were nearby-- but no one was there to cook or vendor except Aiba.

Aiba, who was skewering dango and offering them to his friends.

“I’m not really hungry,” Jun muttered, still looking at Sho, and Sho felt pure relief just wash over him. Now to make sure the other two didn’t eat any…

“Oh, just try one,” Aiba chirped, thrusting the small plastic tray of skewered dango in front of Jun’s face, “I made them for you. Please.”

“Ah, well, I guess…” Jun took a stick, parted his lips, and Sho lunged.

“No!” Sho’s voice broke as he rushed to stop Jun from eating it. He knocked the tray, and Nino cried out as the dango rolled on the ground. 

 

“What the fuck, Sho?!” Nino sounded beyond appalled, and Ohno watched with wide and searching eyes.

Jun glared and held defiantly to the stick he still had pinched between his fingers, “Well this one is still good, Masaki. I’ll eat it.”

“No! Jun, don’t!” Sho nearly screeched, immediately grappling for the food. There was a moment of struggle, Jun grunted as he tried to push Sho back, but Sho was physically stronger, and even when he couldn’t manage to pry Jun’s fingers from the stick without hurting him, Sho could pull Jun’s hand away from his mouth.

“Let him eat it!” Aiba shouted in an unfamiliar burst of irritation that had Ohno’s dark eyes snapping to the taller man. Sho didn’t listen. He could see the muscles tense and the ligaments tighten in Jun’s forearm as he pulled Jun’s hand away-- if he waited another second, he would either rip something in Jun’s arm or Jun would snatch his hand back.

Sho didn’t wait another second. He leaned down and took the entire dango into his mouth.

His first intention was to spit the damn thing back out…. but Sho never got that far. A cold, inky blackness burst across his vision and screamed through his veins. He couldn’t open his lips, couldn’t feel his limbs, couldn’t make his eyes see… In that instant, he couldn’t hear Jun screaming.

But Jun was screaming. And he wasn’t the only one.

Aiba was screaming too.


	12. The Shadows

The sound was sharp and high, Aiba’s scream. And unlike Jun’s, who screamed from fear and confusion as he collapsed to the ground with Sho, Aiba’s shriek pierced the night with this horrible edge of anger and desperate mania.

 

It was rage, and no sound so unnatural to Aiba had ever passed his lips before, or after. From those full lips, as they panted shallow breaths between the screams, slipped a blackness. Like a long exhale of the darkest smoke, it continued to cascade down his chin towards the ground, dispersing in tendrils into the air as it went. Aiba had never looked so pale, and his eyes had never looked so dark-- and yet they shone. Glassy and bright.

 

“Oh god,” Nino’s voice was raw and tight; concern and fear hissed through tightly clenched teeth, “Aiba, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

 

Ohno and Nino had both crouched, instinctively, when Sho dropped like a rock, but now no one knew where to look first. The sound of the festival around them was drowned out by the sound Aiba was making, and Jun’s concerned shouting that turned into choking sobs over Sho.

 

The blackness was rolling in waves on the ground, almost like a mist, and the festival lights and crowd were lost behind it.  As the darkness edged closer to the four on the ground, Ohno felt himself starting to panic. He remembered this. This was something he had seen before.

 

“Aiba!” Nino screeched, eyes brimming with fear as he watched the darkness pour out of his friend. Something was very, very wrong.

 

“Shhh, Nino!” Ohno hissed and clutched Nino’s hair as he pulled the younger man’s face against his neck so he could speak into his ear, “That’s not Aiba. Sho was right—Sho was right.”

 

“What is it then?!”

 

“The shadows,” Jun replied, tears running down his face, “Oh God, the shadows.”

 

“They got Aiba… Oh shit, look at his feet!” Nino choked, his own tears streaming.

 

Jun and Ohno both gasped as they looked, Jun’s hand flying to his mouth and Sho’s head falling to his lap. Horrified, they stared as Aiba’s feet were no longer touching the ground. With the blackness swirling around him, Aiba was rising slowly—and his skin! His skin, obviously paler, suddenly looked sickly and…no, Ohno blinked furiously, but he couldn’t deny what he saw—Aiba’s skin was rippling. It was almost as if…as if something was moving underneath.

 

Nino saw it, too, and immediately gagged. Ohno took Nino by the elbows and pulled him to his feet, then turned to Jun.

 

“We need to get out of here.”

 

Jun nodded, trembling all over, “Help me with Sho.”

 

Ohno grabbed Sho’s legs, noting how stiff he was, and Jun looped his arms beneath Sho’s armpits. It was terrifying how the man who had been so anxiously energetic moments ago was now nothing more than dead weight in their arms.

 

“NOOOOO---“ screeched Aiba, his voice hysterical and metallically high.

 

Not looking back, they scrambled into the shadows as Aiba screamed behind them, desperate to escape. Nino whipped out his phone, using his flash, but it was useless. The light couldn’t cut through the darkness.

They surged forward, away from the sound, but when the shadows parted, they were back where they started, in front of where Aiba’s family’s stand should be.

 

“What?!” Nino whispered, terrified.

 

For a second, it appeared that Aiba was gone, but then Ohno gave a shout as Aiba’s distorted face appeared just inches in front of his nose. Ohno caught a sour, musty smell and stumbled backwards, but Aiba floated right after him, his face right in Ohno’s.

 

“Satoshi…” Nino cried, but when he ran forward, Aiba’s arm shout out and shoved him away. Sobbing, Nino fell hard on the ground.

 

Aiba’s mouth split into a grotesque grin that kept growing wider as his glassy eyes bore into Ohno. The shadows seemed to thicken—practically streaming out of every pore on Aiba’s body, and then, in a completely unfamiliar voice, Aiba began to giggle. The giggling grew in volume, and then there was this tight sound—like when someone over fills a balloon.

 

And then, as the three trapped by the shadows stared in horror, Aiba burst.

 

His body just exploded, and fine bits of flesh, blood, and gore rained down as Jun and Nino screamed. Ohno, who had been so close to Aiba, collapsed to the ground and wiped furiously at his face. His hands, just like the rest of him, were saturated with blood and carnage, so no matter how much Ohno wiped, he just couldn’t get clean.

 

Ohno started to dry heave and hyperventilate, and Nino flew to his side. They almost didn’t see the dark, shadowy figure hovering high above their little clearing in the shadows.

 

Ohno wasn’t willing to open his eyes while he still had a bloody mess of Aiba on them. Nino was doing his best to clear the gore from his face, so it was Jun who first noticed the tendrils of shadows falling from the sky. He followed the darkness upwards until he saw it, crawling in sporadic angles across the night sky, clawing at nothing but air-- and suddenly, Jun found it hard to breathe. Heart racing, Jun couldn’t make a sound. All he could do is thrust his hand up to point, and as he did, he noticed there was a dark blue circle on his arm.

 

Jun couldn’t think about the spell at that moment, except to acknowledge defeat. He saw that circle and immediately accepted his fate. There was no way he could break it now. Splattered with blood, Jun wasn’t even sure he’d live long enough to turn back into a mannequin after his 24 hours were up.

 

Fear was consuming all of Jun’s attention as the shadowy creature above him continued its frenzied crawl across the sky, maybe fifteen feet above their heads. Desperately, reflexively, Jun shook Sho’s shoulders.

 

Nino noticed Jun pointing, looked up, and nearly screamed. Ohno, hearing the strangled sound, made one last swipe with his arm across his eyes and, blinking furiously, opened them. Jun saw the tremor that wracked Ohno’s body, and he saw how his friend continued shaking even as Nino clung to him. The shadows were thicker around them now-- the clearing felt smaller, like the shadows were closing in. There was no wind. There wasn’t even a breeze. There was just the ink-black shadows and the yurei.

 

The dark creature croaked, teeth gleaming, and Jun saw the exact second its eyes honed in on Sakurai. Within seconds, it was scrambling down the sky. The shadows billowed around it’s thin form while pale, crooked limbs tore through the air. Ohno and Nino shouted something, perhaps they wanted to run back into the darkness, but Jun couldn’t move.

 

Fear sluiced ice through his veins as Jun’s eyes tracked the monster’s desent, and at the last second, fear won out and he looked down Sho in his lap. Jun needed Sho. Sho would protect him right now, Jun knew it. Sho wouldn’t let the yurei get him. . . If only Sho hadn’t eaten that dango.

 

If only Jun had believed him.

 

Sho’s lips were turning dark, his cheeks sallow.

 

“He’s dead, you know,” a voice whispered in Jun’s ear, causing the man to jolt both in fear of the creature and of what she said. His heart immedately cried out that she was wrong, but--

 

“Look at him,” Jun could feel the musty puff of the yurei’s breath on his neck as it spoke,, “His chest no longer rises. He’s grown stiff and loses color… Give him to me.”

 

“No!” Jun barked, voice shaking, “I won’t let you have him.”

 

Still unwilling to look at it outright, Jun shuddered, nearly crying out, as a sharp, bony hand ran an appreciative line down his back.

 

“His soul. It’s mine.” The voice was high and went in and out as it rose in volume, “He’s not perfect… Not you…not you... but I need it.”

 

“No…” Jun croaked, squeezing Sho against him.

 

“Can’t you feel it, Jun?” the yurei sing-songed, “He takes no breaths. His heart does not beat. . . And he’s grown cold, hasn’t he?”

 

Jun shook his head, violently, but… His body was suddenly aware of how cold Sho had become. He tried, for a second, to feel Sho’s pulse but it was impossible. Jun’s own heart was racing too hard-- that’s what he told himself as the yurei started wheezing in what Jun recognized must be laughter.

 

“You’ve lost him, Jun,” the voice was back in his ear, hissing gleefully, “Give him to me, like a nice boy.”

 

Jun held his breath. Closed his eyes. The monster was so close.

 

“Don’t make me take him from you, Jun!” the yurei’s voice grew darkly threatening, “It would pain me to ruin such perfect beauty.”

 

Jun cracked his eyes open to peek in the direction where Ohno and Nino were, he was so afraid. Sho felt dead in his arms. What should he do? What could he do? But all Jun saw was black shadows. Nino and Ohno were no where to be seen.

 

“You don’t remember the screams, Jun?” the yurei sounded like it was losing patience, “Do you want to scream Jun?”

 

“....no…” Jun choked, “please no…”

 

“He is dead, Jun. Give me the corpse, or I will take it from you, and you will not enjoy it.”

 

What should he do? What should he do? Sho was dead. Sho was dead--

 

 _He_ _was_.

 

Jun felt himself accepting it. Sho was cold and stiff and dead in his arms, and Jun did not want to die. Jun didn’t want to scream. He was so scared. He… felt his grip loosening on Sho’s body.

 

“I’m so sorry, Sho. I’m so sorry.”


	13. Gods and Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to add a little reference guide to this chapter, but I wanted to get it up first. Also, I'm writing this from a Western perspective. So characters will be somewhat unfamiliar with what might be common knowledge of Japanese mythology. Because I feel like most of us might like a little explanation regarding terms/creatures/mythology I introduce, I sort of made the human characters a bit more naive than an actual Japanese person might be. I tried not to do it too much, but there are instances when Jun doesn't know what something is and, in actuality, he might know the term immediately. Like we would recognize the term poltergeist, but maybe Jun would need a little clarification if our roles were reversed. Maybe not. Idk.
> 
> I hope that made sense and is ok. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. Tell me what doesn't work or if I made errors... and tell me what you do like, if you do ^^

The black mist was so thick around Jun, it seemed almost like the smoke that had engulfed them during the fire. It was opaque, and every second, it seemed to inch closer to Sho and him. It was almost suffocating, the closeness of the mist.

Or perhaps that was his fear, stealing the air from his lungs as the yurei crouched behind him. Ohno and Nino were gone, swallowed by the darkness… and now it was just Jun, clutching less and less tightly to Sho as he whispered regret.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, almost like a prayer. He felt the yurei move from behind him, and he couldn’t let go yet. As soon as she moved, he gripped hard. He couldn’t let go...yet. Not yet.

From the corner of his eye, he could see no feet beneath the ragged white cloth as it floated beside him. He knew that if he looked up, he would see the rest of her.

He didn’t want to look up.

But the thing was speaking again. “Give him to me, Jun. Give him to me, quickly!”

Jun clutched harder to Sho, stiff and cold as he was, “....Why? Why do you need him?! Why can’t you just leave us alone?!”

Jun knew he was hysterical and that is was useless to ask anything of this monster, but she was so terrifying and so close. There was a second of silence, where he only heard his own heaving breaths, but then he felt her thin hand-- like a claw-- grip his shoulder and throw him back, but still Jun didn’t let go. Sho’s head hit the pavement a little, and Jun gasped another apology, and then he saw her...in full.

Shrouded in white, her black hair fell in a straggly curtain over her face… but because she floated above him, Jun saw everything. Skin so pale it was shaded with grays, purples, and bruise-like greens…and it was marred. Across her cheek, leading to the corner of her mouth, it appeared the creature had fallen victim to pestilence. Boils and pustules were cracked, infected, and scattered with something black and oozing… Jun gagged. Her thin lips were cracked, raw, and only seemed to crack further as her mouth curled into a malicious smile. 

Her eyes though… They were completely dark. There was nothing but black depths glittering in furious insanity. Jun couldn’t look away.

Suddenly, her head jerked, faster than any human could, and in a flash, Jun would have sworn he saw her nose distort -- lengthen then shrink back again-- and fangs appeared between her cracked lips, but then were gone. All in a jerk that his eyes almost couldn’t follow.

“I’m so hungry, Jun,” the yurei’s voice was quiet, but threatening, and an off-color, tensile tongue licked at her lips. “So hungry.”

“Sh-- Sho,” Jun squeezed his eyes shut as he trembled, “I’m so sorry.”

“JUN!” A shout not from the yurei came from the opposite side, and Jun’s head snapped up to look. At first he just saw a rosy glow, but then a burst of blood-red flame came shooting through the mist. Screeching, the yurei recoiled and surrounded herself in black shadows, so that she appeared as a black, cloud-like spectrum. Another burst of flame shot forward, and behind it, behind it ran Subaru, palms cradling two small flames.

“Don’t let go of him! Don’t let go! He’s not dead yet!” Subaru screamed, and his eyes had never looked so volatile as he charged towards the yurei.

Jun felt his stomach drop at the sight of Subaru running towards what Jun recognized as a yurei. Could Subaru fight it? And survive? Jun didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny he felt warmth pour through him at the words that Sho wasn’t dead. He clung even harder to Sho. With renewed need to protect Sho, he wrapped his arms around Sho’s body and covered it with his own. There was no way the yurei could get to Sho without going through him first.

Still, he prayed that Subaru would just make it go away.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Subaru shoot flames-- something he hadn’t even known Subaru could do-- at the yurei, before she burst from her dark cloak of swirling mist to lunge at the red Guardian. She knocked him down, again and again, but he kept getting back up. His legs barely held him, but he wouldn’t stay down. Her nails dug deep, harsh lines that quickly ran as red as his flames. She hit him with an especially hard blow, but not before Subaru got a close shot at her, and she shrieked away-- but only briefly.

Only to turn to see Jun lying on top of Sho.

Despite Subaru sending more flames at her, and her flinching with each burning hit, she flew at Jun with her withered arms reaching towards him, screeching intelligible words.

He had barely ducked his head down when her nails dug into his back. She was pulling and clawing-- trying to rip Jun from Sho, but Jun wouldn’t let go. The yurei continued, and Jun realized, blearily through the haze of pain, that she wasn’t really trying to lift him off Sho.

She was going to tear right through him.

Jun screamed, his back raw and open with wounds as the monstrous ghost just kept pelting him with hysterical blows. Her nails dug into him, pulling back the flesh.

He was too weak to notice, as his blood began to pool on the ground around them, but a soft, red light was passing from Sho’s body into his. If anything, Jun saw the haze from the glow and thought it was just his eyes glazing over… but he really couldn’t see much as he began to succumb to the pain.

He couldn’t hear Subaru shouting, but Subaru was-- and he was fighting too. He was throwing flame after flame, but it was useless. He knew that going in. What he was really trying to do was buy Jun and Sho some time befo--

Colored flashes exploded like fireworks all around Subaru.

“Oh thank fuck,” Subaru muttered as five yosei stood when their brightly colored smoke faded. Orange, green, yellow, purple, and black smoke blended and faded into the dark mist surrounding the little clearing. Subaru followed as they immediately ran towards the yurei clawing at Jun’s limp body over Sho’s.

“Hit her with EVERYTHING you have,” the tall, pale, black yosei shouted, and the yellow’s hands were already sparking electricity as he raised them to attack. Black’s palms started to glow blindingly bright, and when Subaru threw flames as the yellow yosei shot lightning, white tendrils of spectral light flew from the hands of the black yosei, for he was a yosei whose natural talent pertained to the dead. The green yosei, being bound to the earth and its harvest, held two sacred stones in his hands that, when he whispered incantations, would light up likes curses and weaken the target’s stamina and agility. If she had been living, the green yosei could have even poisoned her with a specific stone and incantation. But being what she was, he violently whispered ancient words to weaken her. Because of their being full-blooded yosei; the black, yellow, and green’s power was more concentrated in their attacks, but Subaru fought just as hard.

The orange and purple yosei ran, then slid beneath the yurei to kneel beside Jun and Sho. The others kept hitting the yurei until she--covered in flames and sizzling with electrical surges as white, phantasmal ropes snaked around her cadaverous form--flew back to retreat into her cloud of black fog.

Then Subaru ran over with the three yosei to join the others huddling around the two fallen humans. As soon as they were down, the purple yosei thrust his hands in the air, palms up, and arched them down to his sides, creating a dome-shaped kekkai around them.

“This isn’t going to last long against her,” the purple yosei told them.

“Don’t worry, Hina. It’ll last long enough for Yasu to get here with the cavalry,” the green yosei responded, although his steady voice didn’t match the look in his eyes as they watched the shadows descending on their protective shield.

“Just heal him already, Maruyama!” Subaru snapped, and the orange yosei’s eyes flicked up to his.

“I am,” Maruyama replied, biting his cheek and seemingly warming his palms together. He had fluffy brown hair that fell around his eyes, which were warm. “But you know there’s nothing I can do for the poisoned one.”

“I know.”

The orange yosei stopped rubbing his hands together and moved to hold them gently over Jun’s wounds. Invisible to the eye, magical warmth radiated from his hands and sealed Jun’s wounds. He whispered a short incantation, and the color returned to Jun’s cheeks. Gasping, Jun’s dark eyes opened and cleared. He clenched his grip on Sho, and looked at the new faces around him until he found Subaru.

“ ‘Baru,” he muttered, “Is she gone?”

“...She will be, Jun.”

“Is Sho still alive?”

“He’s hanging in there. His soul hasn’t left yet, has it? Yoko?” The last bit was directed to the black yosei, whose hair and eyes were jet black, but his skin was the fairest of pales.

“No, it’s still there. It’s still hanging on. He’s a tough one. He doesn’t want to let go. He hasn’t gone ikiryo yet… But he will, soon.”

“I’m sorry, he’s going to what?” Jun blurted, running a hand through Sho’s hair.

“Well he ate something from the yurei, right? When it possessed Aiba?”

“How did you… Yeah, he didn’t want me to eat it.”

“The food had a spell on it, to make the soul leave the body as an ikiryo. Essentially the body is alive, but the soul has left it. The body dies, though, when she devours the soul. That’s what she’s desperate for. She devours the souls in hopes of gaining their beauty-- or destroying it. I think.”

Jun opened his mouth to respond and choked. Tried again and started with a hiccup, “Sh-- Sho is. . . And it’s all my fault!”

“Don’t do that, Jun,” Subaru warned, “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have loved him,” Jun responded, eyes flashing, “Like I wanted to… Like I didn’t let myself. I was-- am so much closer to him. I was afraid, and then I was stupid. And now Sho’s soul is going to leave his body?! His body! And because he… Because he wanted to save me.”

Tears were running down Jun’s cheeks, but the pale man didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps didn’t care.

“Where are Nino and Ohno, anyway?” Jun finally muttered, “Did you find them? Are they okay?”

“Your friends are fine,” the orange yosei, Maru, assured him.

“Yeah,” the yellow nodded, “They were really disgusting, though. So we sent them home.”

“At first we thought it was their blood,” the purple yosei, Hina, added, “But it turns out they barely had a scratch on them.”

“That blood… that blood is Aiba,” Jun whispered, and Subaru squinted his eyes at him.

“What?”

“The yurei, after I guess she was done possessing him, she. . . she exploded out of him. He just burst, everywhere,” Jun started to shake and tears kept spilling. Subaru made a thin line with his lips, shook his head, and stroked Jun’s arm.

“You know, the more I look at his spirit, the more it seems like there was another spell there… something that may have caused that onryo’s spell to falter, if only temporarily,” Yoko voiced pensively, dark eyes focused on Sho.

“The what? I thought it was a yurei,” Jun looked perplexed and wiped his face. He could have sworn he’d heard Subaru refer to it as a yurei a moment ago, and it looked like the yurei he’d read about in books. He was so confused. “And what other spell? Subaru?”

“I...another spell? Oh! Jun, show us your arm!” Subaru made a grab for Jun’s wrist, but Jun instinctively gripped Sho tighter until he processed Subaru’s words, eyes widening, as he held up his arm.

Subaru’s eyes flooded with emotion, and he blinked it away with a lopsided grin Jun hadn’t seen in such honesty, despite their current situation, in many, many years. Jun looked down, and he saw the circle was gone… but he didn’t feel the immense relief he’d expected. He had felt numb when he’d thought Aiba was his true love who made it disappear, and now . . . all he could feel was fear for Sho.

Jun had never, ever dreamed that breaking the spell would lead to him losing the promised lover.

Nino had been right. Sometimes you do lose… wait, no. There had to be something he could do!

“What about that onryo thing?”

“It’s just a type of yurei,” Subaru explained, but then Yoko took over.

“An onryo is a vengeful type of yurei, capable of inflicting harm, pain, and even death. Some have been known to possess their victims for a variety of devious purposes,” Yoko explained, cringing.

“I do not like dealing with them, but they’re often what I’m summoned for… That one there, though, is extraordinary. So weird. I’ve never seen anything like her . . . and yet, something about the way Yasu described her obsession with Jun and Ohno feels familiar to me. There’s something I’m forgetting, and it’s just on the tip of my tongue, but . . . I’ll think of it eventually.”

“So what do we do?!” Jun snapped, his body straightening abruptly, and Maru patted him.

“I can’t put the blood back,” the orange yosei said, his voice softening, “I can just heal the wounds and lend you some energy… but your body is still pretty weak. I’d lend you more, but I’m conserving as much power as I can until the Misaki get here.”

Jun scrunched his eyes like he was suddenly struck by a headache, “You people keep using words I don’t know. Who is coming? And will they hel--”

“The Elders are coming?!” Subaru practically shouted, “To this realm?! Amongst the humans?! How did you manage that?!”

“Yasu is bringing them. He explained everything after you left. The three clans who responded to his emergency call, including ours, decided the Elders were the only answer, considering Tegoshi couldn’t exorcise this thing… but I don’t know what’s taking them so long,” the green yosei muttered, glancing at Hina when the purple yosei gritted his teeth. The yellow yosei noticed Hina’s strain, too, and electrical charges dropped sparks from his fingertips.

“Ow,” hissed the green yosei, as a spark hit him, “Watch that, Ryo.”

“Shut it, ‘Kura,” the yellow yosei retorted, but he clenched his fists so the sparks were contained.

Jun just pressed his lips together, giving up on understanding. He’d heard of the Elders a few times in passing, especially whenever Subaru’s Guardian friend Massu dropped by, but he’d never heard them referred to as Misaki before. He just hoped whoever they were, they would get there before Sho’s soul couldn’t hold on anymore-- or this purple shield-thing broke.

There was a moment of quiet tension, when the group just looked back and forth between the kekkai, now opaque with black shadowy mist, and each other. Jun clung a little tighter to Sho in that moment, and Subaru swallowed hard.

And then the first hit pounded the kekkai. It was a hard thud that sizzled and sparked, and Hina winced as the others jumped in surprise.

“Oh shit, here it comes,” Ohkura swore.

“Maru, cover Jun and Sho,” Subaru commanded, as if he had the right, and Yoko nodded, but added, “But keep an eye on our clan. Don’t let Ryo get torn down. You know how he gets.”

“Shut. Up.” Ryo gritted.

“This isn’t something we’ll vanquish easily,” Yoko urged, “You need to keep your cool, Ryo.”

Another pound hit the kekkai, followed by a quick sequence of several blows. A crack appeared, and Hina started gulping down breaths.

“He’s going to lose it soon,” Maru whispered.

Ohkura clenched two stones in one hand and unclasped a leather pouch he wore on his belt with the other. Within, Jun could see polished stones and gemstones peeking out. Then, the green yosei rose on his haunches, in an almost feral crouch. Ryo followed suit, his hands practically glowing as they sizzled. With a little “whiff”, Subaru’s palms held flames. Another series of blows hit the kekkai, and Hina folded in on himself. His breath came in hisses through clenched teeth, but the kekkai held.

\--Until the next set of blows, and then the hairline fractures across the purple shield shattered. Hina made a sound, almost like a scream, as the kekkai fell, but they couldn’t stop. Maru pulled the unconscious, broken purple yosei over to Jun, who readily grabbed Hina’s upper arm and brought him closer.

Ryo’s voice rose in a battle cry to match the sound of his lightning as it cracked in web-like volts in his attack on the yurei. Yoko was intense as he concentrated his power, but the yurei didn’t waiver. She attacked full force, in terrifying fury, and Subaru’s flames caught her but didn’t seem to affect her. She shrieked and threw down Ryo first; battered Ohkura, leaving angry, bleeding streaks down his face and neck as he continued to mutter incantations-- and focused all of her energy on reaching Sakurai. Maru’s hands radiated power as he quickly revived Ryo, just in time for the yellow yosei to prevent the yurei from reaching the humans. Maru lent Hina, then revived, enough power to create a barrier over Jun and Sho, but the purple couldn’t protect Maru too, who took an attack straight to the face.

Maru tongued the blood that oozed from his split lip, but didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, he focused on who he could revive next. Who needed healing. With this yurei attacking every which way, he was constantly needing to use his power. The whole area hummed with power, but it couldn’t last. Maru was more than a little relieved when bursts of smoke signified the arrival of another yosei clan coming to their aid. These yosei zipped forward with uncanny speed, aided by a spell. Clever.

These yosei also made use of weapons, in addition to their natural gifts. It signified them as a warrior clan, although it was hard to recognize which one as they moved in a blur around the yurei. They pelted the creature, allowing the others to fall back for aid, and an orange yosei slid to a halt, kicking up dirt, by Jun and Sho.

“Ah! Taguchi!” Maruyama greeted, recognizing his fellow orange yosei.

“Hey! The Misaki are coming, but Kame used his spell that let us speed ahead. How are your guys holding up? Who could use a little orange-yosei goodness?”

“Yoko and Subaru are taking a beating,” Maruyama frowned, “And Ryo just doesn’t know when to quit.”

 

“Always on the offensive, never the defensive, huh?” Taguchi Junnosuke commented, warming his palms to heal them, “Kame would kill him. Ueda gets like that.”

“Ueda is ridiculously fast though, holy cow,” Maru commented, watching the blue yosei armed with enchanted sai blades in each hand.

“He got those from Koki,” Taguchi muttered, “but he would probably prefer his fists.”

“Fists aren’t going to help much here.”

“I’m surprised Yoko isn’t using his sai, or kama!” Taguchi shouted over the fray, as he knelt to heal Ryo, whose stomach was cut so deeply that his ribs were visible, “Now would be a good time!”

“Yoko knows what he’s doing when it comes to”--oof!-- “yurei and yokai,” Maru grunted as he took a blow from the yurei to protect Taguchi and Ryo. He was barely down, though, when the warrior clan’s purple yosei was there beside him, casting a barrier to protect them.

“Nakamaru, thank you,” Maruyama winced as he regarded the panting yosei protecting them.

“This thing… this thing just doesn’t seem to weaken,” Nakamaru returned, then to Taguchi said, “Get Ryo patched up because Ueda is going to burn out soon.”

As he said it, Nakamaru threw up several small purple barriers to protect the yosei from blows, but he couldn’t protect all of them. Hina noted his technique and immediately began to replicate it, creating small walls and casting them out ahead of his comrades.

Jun’s eyes widened dramatically, as he looked up at the new purple yosei who was protecting them alongside Hina. On his hip, this Nakamaru wore a holster, and from it, he pulled a Nambu Type 94-- a pistol. Jun recognized it from the war, although he hadn’t been issued one.

Nakamaru caught the human staring and said, quickly, “I was better with a bow, but this frees up my one hand for casting barriers.”

He looked back down at Jun when the man didn’t say anything in response, and added, “This can’t hurt you, you know. It’s enchanted.”

Jun nodded to show he understood, but it didn’t stop him from recoiling and pressing his face into Sho as the shots rang out, fiery purple bullets striking the yurei. She shrieked and dropped Subaru, whom she’d held in her clutches.

Jun cautiously watched the battle, as he pressed himself over Sho, and noted how quietly the blue warrior yosei fought, wielding sparkling three-pronged blades that stabbed and sliced through the yurei’s attacks. The pink warrior yosei was quiet in the sense that he didn’t constantly shout to the others or swear like Ryo and Hina did. But he did cry out or shout in rage as he dealt swift blows with his daishō; the long and short blades sluicing through the yurei in alarming, pink flashes.

And yet, despite the magic they wielded against her, she did not fall. She barely yielded-- and the yosei were losing strength quickly.

Yoko crumpled after a devastating blow, and Hina dropped his barriers to throw a larger one over the black yosei as Maruyama ran to heal him. Ueda Tatsuya, the blond, blue yosei of the warrior tribe, had been able to evade direct hits from the yurei thus far. It was when he was distracted by his own exhaustion and the sight of the yurei sinking her claws into an unsuspecting Taguchi healing Nakamaru, that he let down his guard to try to move his friends to safety. In that moment, she struck him down. Her high-pitched cackling ran cold through Jun as she turned on him and Sho. They were vulnerable, without purple or orange yosei to protect them.

Kamenashi, although a severe gash on his arm left a trail of blood in his wake, flung himself at the yurei just as she was about to reach the two humans, and in her absolute fury, she thrust her hand straight into Kamenashi’s stomach-- essentially goring him with her jagged nails digging fatally deep. Kame’s eyes grew wide as blood bubbled from his lips.

There was what sounded like an explosion in the sky, and Jun’s eyes snapped away from the falling pink yosei to see a burst of red smoke and a figure appear from within it.

“That yosei is on fire!” gasped Jun, gaping at a descending yosei completely engulfed in crimson flames.

“That’s Kimura Takuya,” Jun heard a familiar voice from behind him and reeled, “His origin is red, but being Misaki, his power is magnificent.”

The voice belonged to Yasuda Shota, cradling a fallen Subaru, and he had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, but Jun had never been so glad to see him, or the imperial-looking yosei who flanked him.

“He looks furious,” Jun whispered.

“Oh he is…We arrived just as that monster stabbed Kame,” Yasu responded.

The blue yosei reached out, awkwardly since Subaru was barely conscious and fairly limp in Yasu’s lap, and clasped Jun’s hand in his. Once upon a time, they had been very close, and Jun saw the tears in his eyes. Jun wasn’t sure if it was for their situation or because his spell had been broken, or maybe it was for everything, but Jun wished so desperately then that they stood a better chance. Because this didn’t look too good for them… and he felt like it was his fault. He had never been surrounded by so much magic and so much violence and so much pain-- and so much fear.

“Don’t worry, Jun,” Yasu said, his voice softly sweet, “The Elders are here, and Kimura has brought someone very special.”

“More special than himself?” Nakamaru wheezed, dropping a bleeding Ueda to the ground beside them. The fallen blue warrior yosei landed right next to Jun, so he got a better look at him. The blond was very muscular, but also incredibly thin and Jun wondered how he he had fought so hard for so long-- and moved so fast. Jun couldn’t bear to look at his wound, except to know that his lower body was soaked with blood, and Jun had to move Sho’s arm to prevent it from getting wet as a puddle of the yosei’s blood started to edge near them.

“He needs one of those orange yosei,” Jun stammered, “Taguchi or Maru..Maruyama.”

“They’re down,” Nakamaru whispered, shaking his head.

Before them, two of the other Elders joined the red Kimura in his attack on the yosei. 

“I can heal him, along with Subaru,” a quiet, yet calm voice asserted with such authority, Jun felt instant relief, even before he looked at the person he assumed was Misaki.

The Misaki, or Elder, had an aura that swirled both pink and blue, but flashed orange as he knelt gracefully between Subaru and Ueda. He rubbed his hands together once, then held them above the fallen yurei and guardian’s chests. Jun had barely blinked before he heard them gasping for breath.

In half a second, Ueda was already back up on his feet. Ready to rejoin the fray.

“Absolutely fucking not. SIT DOWN,” Nakamaru barked, then turned to the Misaki who had healed his comrade, “Will you heal Taguchi and Kamenashi, if I cover you?”

Subaru frowned and made a sound in his throat, after which Nakamaru added, “As well as the others. Of course. I’m just shaken up. I’m used to thinking of protecting my clan.”

“Absolutely,” the Misaki replied, smiling calmly and nodding at Subaru to show his intention. His hair curled softly around his ears, and as he moved past them, Yasu reached out to grasp his hand.

“Thank you, Inagaki,” he said, softly; eyes smiling.

“It’s why we’re here,” Inagaki replied as his colors, literally a visible aura around him while the yosei were generally only recognizable by the shade or nature of their powers, flashed a brilliant orange again, “Let’s start with Maruyama and Taguchi.”

The two had fallen within a few feet of each other, and Nakamaru scrambled to drag a limp Maruyama closer to Taguchi. The orange warrior yosei’s body was contorted in the most unnatural way, Nakamaru didn’t dare move him in fear of seeing bone tear through the skin. Before he got far, though, Inagaki held up his hand to signal he need not move poor Maruyama farther. Rubbing his hands together, Inagaki was able to heal the two orange yosei without having to stand directly above them. Nakamaru let out a slow whistle before rushing forward to throw an arm around Taguchi, who gasped for breath and clutched at a phantom wound on his leg. 

“You okay?” Nakamaru asked him.

“That. Hurt.” Taguchi responded, then blinked and jolted forward, “Last thing I saw was Kame go down. Where’s Kame? He needs me.”

“I always need you, dumbass,” was the cool response Taguchi heard approaching behind him, and he turned around so quickly, Nakamaru nearly fell over.

“But… But Maruyama fell before me. How? How are you okay? Kame?”

Kamenashi leaned against his taller friend.

“The Misaki are here,” Kame said softly, “Inagaki just healed me. Look above you.”

They turned their faces up to the sky. Ueda had come over and knelt with Maruyama on the ground, but they, too, tilted their chins up to look at the battle waged above them. 

It was a whirl of deep, scarlet flame, vibrant, golden electric charges, and an intense array of white tendrils that signified the black yosei magic, even though Jun couldn’t ascertain which of the four Masaki above him were black, and had a feeling that none of them actually were. They kept switching to other powers-- because they could. 

“One of them needs to save Sho,” Jun whispered, eyes fixed on the sky, “Inagaki, can you heal him?”

“It isn’t often that I say this,” replied Inagaki, pursing his lips, “But he is beyond my power.”

Jun made an ugly sound that caught in his throat as he looked down at the still cold and seemingly lifeless Sho in his lap.

“But,” Inagaki continued, glancing upwards but away from the fray, “Do you see that storm brewing, just over there?”

“Yes,” Jun murmured, eyes dark.

“That isn’t a storm.”

“What is it?”

“That, my friend, is a goddess.”


	14. Destruction, a Search for a Soul, and a Cellphone

The mist was broken -- as if a hole had been punched right through it -- to show the night sky where Kimura, the red Elder, had blazed through the yurei’s cloak of darkness. The newly-visible sky churned with thunder clouds, etched with flashes of lightning. With growing intrigue, Jun noticed that lightning flashes sparked white but ran veins through the clouds in vibrant colors. Neon reds, acid yellows, cerulean blues, and more burst from the heat lighting. From within those clouds, as Jun strained his eyes to see the “goddess” Inagaki spoke of, a form seemed to be coming together. It was very crude at first, as if the clouds themselves had decided on a whim to create a form, but then the shape sharpened. It took defined edges and delicate lines as it descended from the far corner of the sky, still flashing brilliant white lightning that reverberated with splashes of color.  
  
The closer the form came, the more Jun could tell it was a being, and in some flashes of lightning, it did appear to be  a woman -- but in another flash, it was barely more than rolling fog. Then it appeared, in a flash, as a whirl of wind and water, but just as quickly, it took the semblance of a woman again -- but that of a wispy giant who stood straight back up into the sky as lightning crackled at her feet. Then the form, quick as a blink, was smaller again, almost human-sized -- and still approaching. The storm clouds hugged close to her, drifting and flashing with her. Clothing her and obeying her.  
  
Jun’s eyes began to water as the goddess approached where he knelt on the ground, cradling Sho on his lap. He wiped them with the back of his hand before looking back at her, realizing the closer she came, the more irritated his eyes became -- exactly as if he was trying to look up into the sky on a sunny day.  
  
And yet, he had to look. He had to see her, because she was his last hope.

The yurei let out a blood-curdling scream, and Jun snapped his head around to look at the creature. The scream was answered by a boom of thunder as Jun saw the yurei writhing, her mist swirling furiously around her as crimson flames visibly caught fire on her flesh, and Jun could see the pallid skin blistering. Kimura kept her engulfed, never letting his blood-red gaze off her. Beside him, two Elders whose auras glowed green and yellow respectively hit the yurei with electric charges, phantasmal ropes, and even more flames -- the shifting of their powers was smooth and shockingly effortless. Jun would have thought he’d never felt such an overwhelming show of power. . . but that goddess was still approaching, and even without looking at her, he knew she was. Jun could feel her approach in the air around him, in the ground beneath him.

Looking at her, so much closer, she was beautiful. She was possibly the most incredibly beautiful woman Jun had ever seen, and yet terrifyingly so. Her hair floated around her, defying gravity, and was the color of a stormcloud. Her skin, though, was luminescent and shifted through pastel shades of every color, never settling on any very long. Her eyes were the color of a typhoon, and her voice…  
  
Her voice was inside his head. Jun lurched when he felt her telepathy speak softly in his mind.

“Oh my mortals, what have I done?”

Her voice sounded sad, and Jun looked at the yosei around him to see if they could all hear her too. All eyes were fixed on her, even Kimura’s, and the answer became obvious when Subaru repeated her question, in a breathy whisper.

“What _have_ you done?”

Yasu elbowed him and shook his head, but the goddess turned to look at Subaru as Yasu clung to him.

“I created a monster,” her voice said, sounding brittle -- as if the goddess might cry over what writhed in the air before her. Then, as she turned to glance down at Jun, meeting his eyes for a white-hot second, she added, “I hurt the children.”

Turning her gaze back in front of her, the typhoon eyes sparked like lightning, and the yurei screamed out again, but it became a choked wail as the clouds swirling around the goddess started to whip and churn. Her eyes grew so bright, Jun couldn’t stand to look at her. The yurei twisted, bent back, and jerked into the form Jun had thought he’d seen before. Her nose lengthened, her teeth elongated and sharpened as her mouth split impossibly wide. . . she appeared almost--

“Tengu,” was whispered harshly by the yosei around them, as if they hadn’t expected it.

The yurei surely did appear to take on the tengu form, although Jun’s mind blanked when he heard it.  She wasn’t like any tengu Jun had ever read about. Her power was far too great, compared to the yosei. She was also so incredibly insane, and her hunger was insatiable. That wasn’t common of tengu, was it? Tricksters, sure, but homicidal maniacs?

_Just what was this thing?_

Thunder roared in a constant roll as the goddess’s clouds billowed up around her. She rose up, chin high, and raised her palm into the air. Kimura, the green, and yellow Misaki fell back in a rush as the yurei-tengu grew frenzied in her struggle.

The goddess closed her palm, and with one last scream, the yurei-tengu was gone. Rain fell harsh and cold, and then as the remaining black mist melted away, it turned into a soft drizzle.

The goddess’s clouds calmed, her eyes grew less bright, and appeared, generally, as if the storm within her, too, had calmed. It had been so simple, so fairly effortless of this ephemeral being to just descend from the heavens and . . .   _poof_ the yurei away. Jun’s mind was reeling from it.

All this pain, for so long. All this fear. The battle he’d just witnessed and been a party to -- The yurei had nearly killed everyone he loved! _Several times!_

And she’d succeeded with Aiba...

His mind was still reeling as the goddess turned and began to float back up into the sky.

“No! Wait! Wait!” He screamed, holding Sho up as best he could.  Beside him, Subaru and Yasu shouted out too. The other yosei joined chorus, and Kimura rose up into the sky after her.

Leaning close, Kimura whispered into the departing goddess’s ear. After a moment, she turned.

“I see there is still trouble left,” the goddess’s voice returned to their minds.

Jun looked down at Sho -- lips blue and body pale and drenched by the rain -- as the goddess turned around. When he looked back up, she was before him. She was so close, Jun could feel the humid electricity radiating off of her.  
  
She lifted a single, chimeric finger to Sho’s neck and stroked softly upwards. As soon she did, Sho’s cold body arched and the man coughed violently. Heaving, Sho brought up the dango he’d swallowed before. Then he collapsed, shaking uncontrollably,  back onto Jun. Despite his huffing for breath and constant shivering, Sho’s skin started to color and lose the pallor of death , and then his cheeks flushed as he realized what he’d laid back upon, and who was looking down at him. With the reddening of his face, his eyes rounded in surprise.

“Jun?”

“Yes!” Jun’s voice broke, and he leaned down to tug Sho against him, but Sho misread the movement in his confusion and began to try to push himself up into a sitting position, although his arms were too weak to hold him. He ended up collapsing in a frantic heap on Jun, and all the while, he muttered frenzied apologies and broken explanations about Aiba and the yurei.

“Sho, stop!” Jun cut him off, grasping Sho’s shoulders tight.

Sho was silenced, mouth falling open slightly when he noticed that Jun was staring at him so fiercely with eyes that wavered. Jun’s cheeks were damp, tear-stained, and . . . Was that blood? Sho started to panic again when his gaze drifted from a cut on Jun’s face to stains on Jun’s shirt, and then, oh dear god, there was blood all over him.

“Jun!” Sho gasped, futilely trying  to sit up again, “Are you OK? What hap--”

Sho was struck silent as he caught sight of something glimmering in his effort to sit up, and, for the first time, noticed the goddess floating beside him. She was watching the human exchange avidly, her typhoon eyes shining silver with curiosity.

Sho gulped at the sight of her, and his skin lost just a tinge of color as he squeaked, “Did that dango kill me?”

“No, Sho,” Jun assured, and though Sho didn’t see it, Subaru was shaking his head and grinning like a madman.

“Who are you?” Sho blurted as he swung his head back to look at the goddess. A few of the yosei audibly sucked in their breath at his impertinent and blunt question.

“Ah, who am I?” The goddess replied, thoughtfully, and Sho blinked as he heard her in his head.

“As it is . . . I cannot say,” The goddess eventually continued, “Mortals have yet to give me a name here, as I am unknown to them,  and for what I am called in other realms, there are not words. I suppose I could say I am a daughter of Susanoo.”  
  
“What?” Sho whispered, his confusion only growing worse.

“A goddess,” Jun whispered back, “She destroyed the yurei, and she saved your life.”

“Oh,” Sho replied, then gulped and attempted to right himself unsuccessfully again before abandoning the effort and just saying, “I am _eternally_ grateful.”

“Your strength will return,” the goddess said in reply, “Humans aren’t meant for power such as mine. Your body will take a little time to recover.”

The goddess paused for another moment, and her eyes turned a shade stormier before she added, “You have no need to thank me for destroying the yurei. I am the one who created her.”

“What?” Sho choked. A soft chorus of curious _whys_ and _whats_ echoed around them. Kimura reprimanded the yosei, not with words but with a gentle wave of power that reminded them who they were and what they were addressing. If any of the yosei had a right to speak to a goddess, it was Misaki -- specifically Kimura. Sho’s naivety was forgivable (apparently, since the goddess was humoring him) but Kimura knew his yosei knew better.

And yet, the goddess chose to answer them all anyway.

Her pull on their minds strengthened, and they found themselves thrust into a vision she was imposing upon them. The sight began focused on what appeared to be a man, but was inarguably more than a man, and he shifted forms and features effortlessly. The man, perhaps a god himself, spoke words without sounds -- indescribable and impossible -- and they somehow communicated deep affection. There were whirls of passion and joy shared between the goddess and the man, but it didn’t last. The sight blurred and refocused on the man lying with a creature, perhaps a woman, that was not the goddess. Red burned the edges of the vision as it turned violent. Sho felt as if his head would crack under the pressure of the sheer ferocity that raged inside the vision. The goddess appeared to be screaming, crying -- throwing the greatest of fits over what could only be the man’s infidelity. Then the vision halted sharply, focusing on the man’s face as he told her in words that were, again, indescribable and yet somehow understood to be saying that the goddess lacked the beauty of his new lover. The goddess, the man was saying, would never be as beautiful as his new lover -- and what does a partner want in a lover, if not beauty?

With that image burning deep and revealing its scars, the vision churned into a jarring whirl of insanity. It became a constant state of broken glass and splintered dreams, fueled by a world-ending typhoon. Nothing that came into her path remained intact. The goddess dissolved into nothing but screams, wind, tears, sleet, anger, floods -- and jealousy. As the intensity of the vision increased, threatening to overwhelm their minds, it climaxed into a storm unlike any even the yosei had ever known, and then, as the roar began to fade and the fiery heat of her furor took an icy turn, a black mist started to roll in.

The yurei’s black mist was where the vision finally ended.

As they returned to consciousness of the world around them, even the warrior yosei were gasping for breath and most of the Misaki seemed shaken. Sho promptly heaved, and Jun would have told him it was alright if he wasn’t holding his own head and trying to convince the ground to stop spinning.

“That monster was born of my most repulsive and destructive hysteria. She was yurei, as she embodied the ghost of my darkest thoughts, and also tengu, as she was unpredictable, calculating, and destructive.”

The goddess’ voice echoed in their minds, reverberating with power tinged with the emotions from her vision.

It was terrifying.

“I was not aware of the creature,” the goddess continued, “It never should have walked this realm, and I see it is also time I depart from it. Before I go, I sense an ikiryo that is another victim of my weakness.”

The yosei visibly tensed, and Sho’s face exposed his confusion as Jun and Subaru both wore expressions of something akin to hope.

“Blue warrior child,” the goddess called, beckoning Ueda with her hand, “Come to me. I have a request of you.]’

Sho barely saw a slim, blond yosei step forward before he was there beside the goddess. She must have said something privately to Ueda, because he nodded quickly. Lifting a single finger, as she had with Sho, the goddess touched it to Ueda’s chest, right above his heart. Ueda recoiled slightly, as if he’d been shocked, and the goddess smiled.

Ueda drifted back down to the ground as the goddess gave the group one last look before departing. As she rose into the night sky, the clouds around her enveloped her again, disguising her and contorting her until she disappeared from sight.

Once she was gone, the yosei fell upon Ueda. They all wanted to know what it was the goddess had asked of him, but Kimura clapped his hands and they quieted.

“Look alive men,” his demeanor was less imperial than it had been with the goddess, but it was still commanding, “That yurei’s magic is fading fast and we have townspeople waking up on the street. We need to get them into their homes with new memories. _Sane_ , normal memories where the festival was cut short by an abrupt storm. You got that, Shingo?”

“No fun,” the Misaki, whose aura shone green, piped, grinning.

“We need to attend to the townspeople, but Ueda can take someone with him to take care of that ikiryo,” Kimura said, with a softer tone, “A gift from a goddess shouldn’t be wasted, so if you struggle, let one of the Misaki know.”

Ueda nodded, then went over to where Subaru and Yasu stood by Jun and Sho on the ground.

“Subaru,” Ueda still sounded a bit dazed, but his voice had purpose, “The ikiryo that the goddess spoke of, she showed me his image so that I can find him. Do you want to see?”

“Show me,” Subaru said, eyes sharp.

Within a second, Subaru was pulling back from Ueda’s telepathic image.

“Aiba,” he gasped, sounding bitterly-relieved, “It’s Aiba. His soul is wandering. We need to find it before it turns shiryo.”

Sho gaped, but Jun spoke up, worried, “Shiryo means we lose him, right? He’ll be dead-dead. What will you do when you find him?”

“The goddess gave me a gift of power so that I can cast a strong spell without depleting all of my own power,” Ueda explained, then did a quick turn as if he were looking for somebody.

“Ah, Yokoyama,” he motioned the black yosei over.

“I was wondering if you would want my help,” Yoko greeted.

“I do,” Ueda nodded, “If you’ll find him, I’ll bind him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yoko nodded, and they both turned to go, “Did she give you an idea of where he might be?”

“She showed me him alongside a railing,” Ueda shrugged, “I’ll show you.”

The two began to walk away, but then Yasuda said something to Subaru and both jogged over to them, but neither Jun or Sho could hear what was being said. At first, Jun thought they were going to go along too, but after a moment, both Subaru and Yasuda stepped back. Ryo stepped forward then, saying something that made Yoko shrug and Ueda nod. Ryo looked like he wanted to go with the two in their search for Aiba, but instead turned to report to the Misaki, who were delegating areas of townspeople for the yosei to cover.

“Tell me again why Ryo thinks he’ll be useful finding Aiba?” Subaru asked as he and Yasu re-joined Jun and Sho.

“He says he can feel a spirit’s energy,” Yasu said in a tone that warned Subaru not to make fun, “Their electrical currents respond to his talent.”

Subaru pressed his lips together and nodded before saying, “Well, whatever helps.”

“Is finding Aiba going to be hard?” Jun asked.

“What did the yurei do to Aiba?” Sho added.

“Oh, Sho,” Jun sounded pained, “I forgot you didn’t see.”

“I’m sorry,” Sho said quickly, “ I must have been out for a while.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jun lightly smacked the top of Sho’s head, “You saved my stubborn life, remember?”

“Your life isn’t--”

“ Also, you were right about Aiba not being himself,” Jun continued, “You were right about everything. Aiba was possessed by the yurei, and after you ate that dango, the yurei, well I guess she decided she didn’t need his body anymore… So she destroyed it.”

“No…”

“His body exploded, Sho,” Jun’s voice shook a little, “I really thought he was dead, but apparently his spirit is still around?”

“The nature of his death caused his soul to become ikiryo,” Yasuda took Jun’s hand, “And he could suffer greatly if left to wander, but don’t worry. They’re going to find him.”

“Which they need Yoko for because he’s a black yosei,” Subaru supplied, “Only the black have the ability to see spirits like Aiba’s; spirits who lack the ability or power to show themselves to the living.”

“Yoko sees dead people,” Hina quipped as he stepped up from behind them, “Anyway, I think the Misaki found your friends. Not the mostly-dead one. The other ones.”

Sho couldn’t quite snap his head to look; but Jun, Yasu, and Subaru did as Nino and Ohno were being coddled by the green-aura Misaki, Shingo, and guided by Kamenashi, the pink warrior yosei. Kamenashi was speaking quickly, gesturing with his hands, while Shingo kept stroking Ohno’s hair and squeezing Nino.

They both looked traumatized.

Kamenashi showed them where Jun and Sho were on the ground, and Sho made a weak wave as both Ohno and Nino gaped. The pair started towards Sho and Jun, but were held back by Shingo, who held both palms up over them, then gestured to Inagaki, who was dealing with townspeople.

“Who are all these people? Are they all magic? The one there has a sword… And a couple of them are glowing,” Sho rasped, dark eyes gazing at the commotion in the street that he remembered being so lively before he’d eaten that dango. Now, there were piles of people just starting to awaken in dazed groups, but Sho was asking about the sometimes-colorful people rushing to the waking-people’s aid.

“They’re yosei, like Yasuda,” Jun told him, smoothing Sho’s hair away from his eyes. He couldn’t seem to stop touching him, not at all minding that Sho was too weak to move from his lap. Sho was starting to calm down too, although his face took on a very pensive and curious expression.

“Not like Subaru?”

“I’m a Guardian, remember? Only half as powerful as the yosei that my kind serve,” Subaru said, “The glowing ones are Misaki, or the yosei Elders. The red one is the leader, Kimura Takuya.

“Oh, ok,” Sho replied, trying not to be distracted by Jun’s hand in his hair, or the other hand at his shoulder. Trying to guess what Jun was thinking or what he meant with the touching was beyond what Sho felt he could handle in that moment. . . and yet, despite all that was going on around them, Sho couldn’t help but be a tad curious (and awfully apprehensive) about it.

Jun took that moment to pull Sho closer to his own chest, a bit abruptly. Sho made a slight sound of surprise, and Subaru raised an eyebrow.

“You ok? Did you see something?”

Jun swallowed before responding, “No… It’s just… It’s been a long night.”

“Well Sho probably doesn’t need jerked around.”

“I know.”

“Then why are yo--”

“Because I almost lost him!” Jun blurted, then, after a beat, continued, “I almost lost everyone. You all almost died. I almost died, for the third or fourth time. I’m starting to lose count.”

Sho had stiffened in Jun’s arms, but didn’t say anything. Subaru narrowed his eyes slightly at Jun, but didn’t say anything either. Jun’s arms loosened slightly around Sho.

Then tightened again.

“Here comes Ohno and his friend,” Yasu piped, watching the two humans approach.

They bee-lined straight for Sho, crouching next to him and Jun on the ground. Nino looked like he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose -- there was a gauntness to his thin figure that hadn’t been there before. And Ohno was covered head-to-toe in an unseemly crust of blood that everyone knew belonged to Aiba.

Yet, somehow, they found the strength to grin at Sho.

“I have literally never been this happy to see the face of my supervisor,” Nino said, cheekily.

“I’m so glad,” Ohno said simply, flopping to the ground.

Sho smiled at them, saying to Nino, “I’m not supervising any part of this.”

“Clearly not,” Nino returned, “It’s a nightmare.”

“You missed the goddess,” Sho told him, and both Ohno and Nino looked at Subaru for confirmation.

“Yeah, you missed a goddess,” the Guardian told them, “And she destroyed the yurei.”

Nino looked like he had a thousand more questions, but Ohno just replied, “Good.”

“I hope that thing burned after what it did to Aiba,” Nino gritted.

Ohno shuddered.

“Two of my kind are looking for his soul now,” Yasuda said, making an effort to be comforting.

“His soul?” Nino only sounded slightly horrified.

“It’s ok,” Subaru told him, “He’s not completely dead, despite not having a body.”

“OK…”

“ If the yosei can find him quickly enough, they can bind his soul to something until his true love breaks the spell.”

“So Jun needs to kiss him and make him better?” Nino sighed.

“No,” Yasuda said.

“Not Jun?”

“Not Jun,” Yasu shook his head.

Ohno nodded his head, though. As if that was the answer he’d expected.

They were quiet for a moment, until Jun cleared his throat. He’d already felt like all eyes were upon him, so he made an attempt to change the topic and asked, softly, “What’s the power of the pink yosei?”

His eyes were on Kamenashi Kazuya as the pink warrior yosei aided the Misaki with the townspeople.

“Kamenashi is a Seer. It’s a trait of the pink yosei,” Subaru said as he folded his legs beneath him to kneel, “Kame’s talent allows him to peek at the future, see hazy visions of what might be to come. Ever hear the saying about seeing the world through rose-colored glasses? That’s a pink yosei thing. They prefer to look ahead with a positive view…  His kind have to be very careful, though -- they’re prone to falling victim to abuse. Even though the future they see isn’t definite and can always be changed-- thus their generally annoying positivity-- people from all realms turn to them for answers. Everyone wants to know what the future holds, especially those who shouldn’t. Tegoshi has the seer talent as well, despite being a blue yosei like Ueda and Yasu, because he has Misaki blood in him. He was destined to join their ranks. His talent wasn’t as much the future though -- the pink don’t always have visions of the future, which helps keep them safe. They can always claim something more benign -- Tegoshi could see other’s dreams.”

“You talk about him like he doesn’t stand a chance,” Sho muttered.

“Yeah,” Jun nodded, “Did I miss something?”

“Tegoshi used a forbidden spell,” Subaru sighed, “Massu was dying--”

“Dying?! Massu?! Is he okay?”

“No. Tegoshi could only offer him life through blood…”

“Oh. So…?”

“So Masuda has become a vampire,” Subaru finished, looking down.

“Are you joking?” Jun asked in disbelief, “A vampire? Really?”

“Really,” Subaru returned, “You were a mannequin for over 70 years, you can’t really be surprised by this.”

“Point,” Jun quirked his mouth, “So, vampires are real, and Massu is one of them… And this spell is forbidden, and it means Tegoshi will die?”

“Yeah. Most definitely,” Subaru replied, not missing a beat.

“As… punishment?” Jun asked quietly, glancing at the Misaki.

“Oh, no. No, they wouldn’t do that. They’ll punish him, if they find him, but they’ll only destroy Massu.”

“WHAT? But why?” Jun’s voice rose as memories of the smiling Guardian flashed through his head. Massu had always been kind and gentle, and positive. Jun had always liked him.

“Vampires are forbidden because they lose themselves to the bloodlust. They become nothing more than that.”

Yasuda flopped into Subaru. “Yuya was desperate, or he wouldn’t have done it,” the blue yosei told them, “And he seems to really believe Massu is still in there, behind the thirst. I’ve never heard of anyone actually regaining true consciousness or overcoming it, except in old stories, but the vampire spell is so lethal… I can’t remember anyone even attempting it in, say, the last 600 years. And that last one I remember was destroyed by Kimura and his flames, once he tracked it down in that village in northern Cambodia. Remember that, ‘Baru? It had sucked almost the entire village dry before Kimura burnt it to a crisp.”

“And yet you bound this one to Tegoshi,” Subaru groaned.

“This time might be different,” Yasuda replied, softly, “If anyone can save Massu, it’s Tegoshi.”

Subaru just gave his lover a pointed look in response. It was clear he hadn’t much hope, and already considered his friend lost.

“The spell can’t be reversed?” Sho asked with closed eyes, as Jun’s lap pillowed his head.

Subaru shook his head and shrugged, but Yasuda’s eye’s lit up a little and he _hmm_ ed thoughtfully.

Taguchi, the orange warrior yosei whose fluff of hair was now pushed back and damp with sweat, squatted down with them, “Ah… What a rush. I’m so tired! How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re… not bad,” Jun responded.

“I’m not dead,” Sho added, “So, I really can’t complain.”

“Did they find Aiba yet?” Subaru asked.

“Not that I know of. Yokoyama is looking, though, and Tat-chan has a talent for binding wandering souls. If they don’t find him by the witching hour, we’ll all start looking then,” Taguchi answered with a shrug, "By the way, you two mortals are wanted back over with the Misaki."

Taguchi pointed at Nino and Ohno.

"What? Why?" Nino asked, eyeing the area with the Misaki suspiciously. This was a lot for him to take in.

"Dunno. Shingo says he wasn't through with you."

Ohno stood up first and offered a hand to Nino, who sighed but allowed Ohno to pull him up. Then the two made their way to Shingo, who appeared to be waiting with Goro and Kimura.

“I should be out there, looking with Ueda and Yoko,” Yasu mumbled, “I could help Ueda bind him.”

“No,” Subaru said lightly, “You’ve done enough. Ueda can handle this. He has been gifted power from the goddess.”

“Yeah,” Taguchi nodded, “Don’t worry about him. He loves this sort of thing. Ghost hunting, binding, etc. I mean, this would drain him because he doesn’t really do anything as long term as this spell, but like your Guardian said, he has help from that goddess. He’s all juiced up.”

“Stop. Looking. Guilty,” Subaru ruffled Yasu’s hair.

“Mhmm,” Jun spoke up, “It’ll be okay. They’ll find him and bind him… Will he be under the same spell as I was?”

Yasuda cocked his head and thought for a second, “I don’t know… it depends on what Ueda decides or is most familiar with. Hopefully.”

“He won’t take any chances with a goddess’s power,” Taguchi snorted, “Don’t worry about it, seriously. He’ll probably use the borrowed-love spell. It’s so powerful and your friend literally needs to regenerate an entire corporeal form. That dude’s body is wasted.”

Kamenashi joined Taguchi on the ground, giving him a disapproving look for not phrasing that last bit better, and flashed an apologetic smile at Subaru. Jun looked at the two of them curiously.

“Subaru didn’t tell you he and I worked together for a few years there, did he?” the pink yosei asked softly, then teased with a sigh, “Ah, he never tells anyone about me.”

“He had fun though,” Yasu piped, giving Kamenashi a grin.

Sho heard the pink yosei’s voice and cracked an eye open to look at him. He was _dying_ to ask Kamenashi what the future held or predicted for Aiba, but then he realized he understood why he couldn’t ask him-- and why they prefer not to reveal themselves. The fact that Kame _could_ see how to save Aiba killed him.

Ohno and Nino returned, clean and in different clothes, with food and blankets, and they set up a sort of group huddle as they wait for news of Aiba from Ueda and Yoko. Nakamaru, the purple yosei Jun recognized as the one who threw barriers and guards up every which way to give his allies protection, joined them, and he was soon followed by Ryo, Maruyama, Hina, and Ohkura.

“Did I hear you say Masuda Takahisa is a--,” Nakamaru swallowed, hard, “vampire?”

“Yeah,” Subaru replied, and was a little surprised by how the purple yosei visibly wilted.

“Damn,” Nakamaru swore quietly, and his eyes darkened. Kamenashi and Taguchi both scooted closer to their clan member, but he just drew his knees up and stared at the ground.

“No shit, a vampire?” Ryo blurted, seemingly unaware of the other’s distress, “Who would even do that to him?”

“Well--” Yasuda started, but was interrupted by the whoosh of wind and small black and blue explosions that signified the return of Yoko and Ueda.

The two slim yosei had barely found footing before Subaru was upon them, his agitation over Aiba made abundantly clear. His true love was Yasuda Shota. . . but he’d grown awfully fond of Aiba Masaki over the last several years. Ohno and Nino jumped up to their feet, and Sho found the strength to sit up by himself, as Jun sat at attention behind him.

“Did you find Aiba?” Subaru questioned, “Where is he?”

“Yeah, he’s right here,” Ueda responded, and he pulled out a cellphone.

“What?”

Ueda gestured again with the cellphone in his hand. “Yoko and I talked about it, and a phone gives Aiba the opportunity to interact online. He can access any app, anywhere in the world.”

"Light weight. You can take him everywhere," Yoko added.

Silence followed. Subaru didn’t look as if he was convinced Ueda had made the right decision. In fact, he looked more like he was trying to control his emotions. Ueda had been gifted the power of a GODDESS, and somehow, Aiba was now trapped inside a phone. Subaru didn’t even like phones.

“Is that a Samsung 7?” Sho asked, breaking the silence.

“I think so?”

“They just recalled those,” Sho continued, “The lithium batteries have been catching fire or something.”

“Oh, that’s fucking great,” Subaru snapped, and Yasu patted him.

“It’s magic,” Ueda snapped back in return, “He won’t catch fire. He doesn’t even need a battery.”

“Let me guess,” Taguchi spoke up, “He runs on _soul power_?”

“Shut up, Junno…”

Subaru stood up and adjusted his fedora. Shaking his hands at his sides, he walked up to Ueda and straightened his posture.

“As a Guardian, I pledge to be responsible for the protection and welfare of Aiba Masaki . . . whatever form he may be in,” Subaru muttered the last part before continuing, “Please allow me to relieve you of his care.”

Ueda straightened as well, and held out both of his hands cradling the Aiba phone, “I relinquish Aiba Masaki to your care, Guardian.”

Subaru took the phone and held it gingerly in his hands. “So,” he muttered, looking thoughtfully at the small black screen, “Has he communicated with you at all yet? Do I need to turn it on?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Ueda replied, “Aiba will light it up when he’s ready.”

“OK.”


End file.
